#poor town. empowering and a choice :)

[magnoliamyrrh]

poverty is a pimp. drugs are a pimp. desperation is a pimp. could we please realize that

[ljf613]

Colonization & Imperialism in ATLA

One of the things I’ve noticed in fandom complaints about the ATLA comics-- namely, “The Promise”-- and subsequently, LOK’s worldbuilding, is the way the narrative handles colonization. 

I see a lot about how what the Earth Kingdom chose to do with the former colonies is “none of Zuko’s (or Aang’s) business.” (I also see people talking about how Katara would never support colonialism, in any shape or form, no matter the circumstances.) 

And I just.... don’t vibe with those ideas? At all? 

Like, I definitely have problems with the comics-- especially “The Promise,” where all the drama centers around Miscommunications of Epic Proportions and could have been resolved in Part One if all the characters just sat down and listened to each other (not to mention that Aang would never have agreed to make that promise, nor would Zuko have asked it of him (Sokka would be a more obvious choice, but that’s a different discussion))-- but I never had any issues with their worldbuilding. 

I love the idea of Yu Dao, and the fact that the narrative acknowledges that a new kind of world has new kinds of problems. It makes sense to me that we can’t always just “give back the land we took.” And I found the idea of the end solution being  “give the people who live there their own country” really cool and empowering. 

So I want to talk about why I feel this way. About what kind of real-world parallels can be made here. About some little-known bits of world-history that compare. 

(Please note that for this meta I am only going to be discussing the relationship between Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom. As far as I am aware-- and I could be wrong-- there is no real-world genocide quite comparible to what Sozin did to the Air Nomads, and most of the people alive in ATLA were not actually around for or involved in that. And the relationship the Fire Nation has with the Water Tribes-- and that the North and South have with each other-- is worth a whole separate analysis, and doesn’t deserve to just be shoved into this one.)

(Disclaimer: While this is in response to some of the interpretations I’ve seen on this site, it is not meant to discount or invalidate those fans’ views-- I’m just trying to show my take on it. I am a firm believer in the power of active discourse, and the value of looking at the same scenes through different lenses, rather than just getting one opinion and accepting it as Absolute Truth.) 

The main thing I notice in general ATLA discourse-- and not just on this topic, but in any sort of meta about the Fire Nation, colonization, and global impact-- is that the fandom mostly compares the war and its after-affects to real-world Imperialism, the Age of Imperialism, New Imperialism, and Colonization. 

And I understand why that is. In the grand scheme of world history, that era is still fairly recent, and we are still dealing with the afteraffects from it. It has shaped the Western World’s worldview on every level. (Not to mention that the Euro-centric way we’re taught history means that this piece of world history is the one we’re most exposed to, and so have the most understanding of and room to analyze/criticize.) 

However, there are a few issues with sticking only to this perspective. 

First off, the Age of Imperialism was a direct response to the Age of Exploration. This was the period of time when white Europeans sailed around the world acting as though they were discovering new places and pretending that there weren’t already existing civilizations there. 

[ID: Two dots meme, edited so that Guy A says “i’ve discovered a NEW WORLD,” Guy B replies “you didn’t discover ****,” and Guy A insists “i’ve discovered it” / End ID.] 

Now, I’ve mentioned this in passing, but the world of ATLA doesn’t appear to have had an Age of Exploration. There’s no vast “undiscovered” land masses, the four nations have always known about each other, and they all have a shared language. 

The whole foundation for the Age of Imperialism was “oh, look, there are all these ‘unexplored’ lands with resources ripe for the picking (who cares about the indigenous people, they’re just simplistic savages who don’t know what’s best for them), let’s see which European country can grab the most land first.” 

This was a race. This was sudden. This was Europeans coming in and taking over while viewing the natives as bothersome pests. This was about multiple major world powers competing over resources. 

This was not 100 years of active warfare between a single conquering country and the very people they were trying to conquer. 

The parallels don’t hold up. 

Secondly, by focussing only on this one kind of historical narrative, we ignore any others. 

I will admit that I have used the word “imperialism” in reference to the Fire Nation a time or two. However, upon further reflection, I realize I didn’t really mean imperialism, which is actually a fairly modern concept. What I feel the Fire Nation is really an example of is centralism and expansionism-- two ideaologies that have been a way of life for conquering empires throughout history. 

(I am in no way qualified to explain the differences between these concepts-- I recommend doing your own research if you’re curious.) 

The Persian Empire. The Greek Empire. The Roman Empire. The Byzantine Empire. The Mongolian Empire. The Russian Empire. The First French Empire. 

You could take any of these (or numerous others) and make an interesting analysis between the similarities and differences between their behaviors and that of the Fire Nation. And maybe I’ll do that someday. 

However, I started this to talk about Yu Dao and all of the other so-called colonies (I really feel like territories would be a better word, but, again, that’s a whole ’nother discussion), and I’d like to focus on that. 

FYI, here’s a basic history refresher: If two countries are at war, and then they decide to end the war, neither country is required to return captured territories. They can make a treaty and agree to do so, but there is no obligation to. The Fire Nation didn’t just march in and say, “this is our land now”-- they fought for it. They captured that land. Just because the war is over doesn’t mean they need to just give it back. 

Like it or not, that is the way the world operated for thousands of years, and so that is the interpretation I’m working with here. 

In any case, “The Promise” actually presents this as a three-way conversation. There’s Zuko (and, by default, the Fire Nation), Kuei (and, by default, Ba Sing Se and the Earth Kingdom), and the people of Yu Dao themselves. 

(My understanding of the Earth Kingdom’s style of government is that it’s made up of a large collection of different ethno-cultural regions who all answer to Ba Sing Se.) 

I’ll let Sokka explain it: 

[ID: Comic panel from Part Three of “The Promise.” Sokka and Katara are talking, both in obvious states of agitation, while Suki and Toph are looking at something in the background. Sokka is saying, “Let me see if I got this. The protestors and the Earth Kingdom Army want the colonials to go, the Fire Nation Army wants the colonials to stay, and the Yu Dao Resistance just want their city to be left alone?” Katara responds, “Yes!” / End ID.] 

The people of Yu Dao don’t care about the war. They don’t even really care who’s in charge. They just want to be left alone. 

This speaks to me on a very personal level, so I’m going to make another real-world comparison here: 

My ancestors first came to America to escape from the poverty and opression they were experiencing in a place known as “White Russia”-- that is, Belarus. To be clear, I am not talking about the country “Belarus,” but the region, which includes the modern-day countries of Lithuania, Ukraine, Belarus, Latvia and Moldova, as well as parts of Poland and Russia. 

I looked up White Russia, trying to find out how much information someone who didn’t grow up hearing stories about what it was like (that is, most of the people reading this,) might have. I didn’t find much. Most of what I found talked about political ideologies and such-- things that your average poor peasant, struggling just eke out a living, didn’t have much energy to care about. So let me paint a(n oversimplified) picture for you. 

Imagine you’re a poor shoemaker in a small town on the Russian border. You spend your days hard at work, trying to earn a living to support your wife and nine children. You’ve never left the town you were born in. One day you get the news: Russia and Poland are fighting again. Your two oldest sons (ages 15 and 17) are forcibly drafted off to fight in the Russian army; you never see them again and have no way of knowing if they’re dead or alive (they’re probably dead). Poland wins-- this time. Congratulations, your town is now part of Poland. 

Does suddenly being Polish make a difference to your life? Not in the slightest. Two or three years down the line, you’ll go back to being part of Russia again. This is the third or fourth time you’ve seen your town switch hands, and you can’t say you prefer one government over the other. It doesn’t really matter who’s in charge-- you’re still faced with crippling taxes, forced drafts, and various other forms of oppression. (It doesn’t help that you happen to be part of a persecuted minority.) 

(This is why I have many ancestors who may never have left the town they were born in, and yet records show that they were born in one country, got married in another, and died in a third.) 

This is the kind of worldview through which I am looking at Yu Dao. (Obviously, it’s not an exact parallel, but neither is the standard “colonizers vs oppressed natives” lens.) 

My ancestors eventually got fed up with the treatment they were receiving from their respective governments, and left to build a new life, in a new place. But the citizens of Yu Dao don’t have anywhere to go. The only two real world powers in this story are the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom, neither of which has ever before expressed any true interest or concern in the actual people of Yu Dao. 

The Earth Kingdom didn’t really care about the city before the war-- they were just another poor, struggling town, whose citizens were barely able to make ends meet. And while the Fire Nation may have helped the place grow into a bustling town, they also established a hierarchy that did not serve in the citizens’ best interests. 

And so, in “The Promise,” these citizens’ frustrations come to a head. “Enough,” they say, “we don’t want to be used as a pawn in your games anymore.” 

And Zuko and Kuei (and Aang) actually listen. They say “we need to start thinking about these people as people, not as symbols of one side or the other. It’s time to give them a say in their future.” 

And a new country-- a new way of life-- is born. 

(Is it perfect? Absolutely not. But it is constantly evolving and changing, trying to do better, be better. And that’s more than you can say about most of the other countries in this world.)

[parasite-core]

Man. So we started Wrath of the Righteous last night. And it was…quite the session. It was…let’s say tonally fitting. In that we’ve had our first ever permanent PC death.

So my half-elf warpriest of Iomedae Draven was mentor of sorts to the party’s paladin Auriel, a shabti seeking his purpose and finding it as a crusader of Iomedae. They were both part of the Raven Corps, the lowest ranking members of the crusaders, basically the reserves, kept for glorified guard duty at best, and looked down on by everyone as the weakest links.

The day of the Armice festival, Draven and Auriel stumbled upon a notorious serial killer called the Butcher of Bellstreet in the storage house of the nearby temple, where they also found a symbol of the demon lord Deskari carved into the floor. The Butcher told them it was there when he got there, and they should be more concerned with the metal box in the room. Then he made a run for it. Draven told Auriel to check the box while he ran after the Butcher. Draven and the Butcher had a rooftop chase, while Auriel uncovered a mummified locust demon in a box with more Deskari symbology on it.

At the same time, an inquisitor of Shelyn, Melody, who had just arrived to town following a songbird across the continent saw Draven giving chase to the Butcher. She ran into Auriel in time for him to try to ask for assistance catching the Butcher, who they all believed was responsible for the Deskari conspiracy they’d just uncovered.

In the roof, Draven had fallen behind due to his heavy armor slowing him from climbing compared to his swifter foe, forcing him to find an alternate path. However the Butcher was slowed when he came to a bridge he needed to lower. At that time Melody got into range to cast forbid action, forbidding the Butcher from moving. Draven was able to catch up to him, and noticed that strangely he’d stuffed his clothes full of oranges to appear more bulky. He didn’t have time to process this however because a moment later he was yeeted off the root, landed near the festivities. Members of the color guard came to check on him, and he informed them that he’d been pursuing the Butcher, and of the Deskari symbol in the storage room.

On the roof Auriel tried to smite evil the Butcher after he insulted Iomedae, but the smite didn’t take, instead redirecting to the nearest valid target—the box the Butcher was holding. Melody tried to talk to the Butcher, who was frustrated and snapped at her that he was the Butcher of Bellstreet and he’d kill her whole family yada yada if she didn’t get out of his way. She realized he was just saying what he expected her to hear and maybe wasn’t really the threat he was trying to seem like. She tried to cut off his escape route so they could talk…but slipped up on her attempt and fell to the ground beside Draven.

The Butcher made a run for it, but the Eagle Watch Brigade cornered them, with Draven tailing behind them. The Butcher doubled back and tried jumping off the bridge and making a break for it, but then someone else used hold person on him. Another high ranking member of the crusades, Lady Salzara, showed up with her own sect of crusaders. She had Draven, Melody, and Auriel come with her along with forcing the Butcher to come along.

She went to give a speech, about how on this auspicious day a ‘lost lamb’ had been returned to them. When suddenly there was a horrible cracking noise. The building that housed the Ward Stone, the artifact that protected the city from the demon incursion, shattered. The barrier was destroyed. Demons began swarming in, slaughtering people. The head Paladin Commander Hol Rune was killed instantly without even being able to put up a fight.

Then the silver dragon Trendelev swooped down. He told us that the four of us had a grave destiny ahead of us, and that despite any misgivings we might have about one another we needed to work together to stop the evil that had befallen this city. He cast a spell, and the four of us, and three others, were cast down into the bowls of the earth, and into darkness, as our final sight was the great dragon, protector of Kenabres, facing the Storm King Khorramzadeh.

We woke later in a dark space with scattered memories that slowly returned. The Butcher removed ‘his’ hood after Draven made a quip about the oranges and revealed he was actually a middle aged woman with one demonic red eye, by the name of Luna. She was accused of being a serial killer in her teenage years for reasons we don’t yet know, and leaned into it, making an infamous name for herself in her Butcher guise. In reality, according to her she’d never killed anyone.

Melody lit a light cantrip, and we found the four of us weren’t alone. We were joined by a merchant noble, a crusader with a crushed and broken leg, and an elven wizard whose eyes had been completed blinded.

Draven healed the crusader, Anevia Tirabade, to the best of his ability, and realized she is the wife of the head of the Eagle Watch, Irabeth Tirabade. Someone he and many members of the Raven Corps look up to as she was originally a member of the Raven Corps who foiled a plot to destroy the Ward Stone many years prior and earned a name and rank for herself in the process.

Afterwards they checked on the elven man, Aravashnial, and had to break the news to him that they were not simply in magical darkness, but that he’d been blinded. Aravashnial was proud and didn’t want to be sidelined by this and was a bit headstrong initially. Draven tried to reason with him, trying to connect with the fact he’d lost one eye himself and had to relearn how to fight without the use of his left eye. He told him while he did believe in time he’d be able to relearn how to do what he could before, it *would* take time, and they were in a dangerous situation where rushing in (literally blindly) would be a poor choice. He and Melody also said he’d still be very helpful for his knowledge of the arcane, as absolutely no one else in this group knew a damn thing about arcane anything. Aravashnial couldn’t be said to be happy about his situation still obviously, but he was a bit less hard headed about trying to force his way into the lead into a dangerous position in his current state.

Last, there was the merchant, Horgus Gwerm. He was…unpleasant. He ended up in an argument with Luna and they went off on their own. They opened the box that Auriel had detected as evil, and removed a book from inside. Horgus tried to burn it, but it wouldn’t take, to which Aravashnial made a snide remark. We took notice that this trio seemed to not get along particularly well.

We moved forward, fighting through a number of nasty vermin, until we found an abandoned temple to Torag. Auriel and Anevia both wanted to stop here, Auriel to pay respects and to cleanse the forgotten temple, and Anevia to rest and mourn the state of the fallen temple.

Horgus didn’t want to stick around. He felt like Anevia and Aravashnial were slowing us down. He told Luna they were leaving—apparently he’d hired Luna as his bodyguard. He told us that he could pay us to come as well. The rest of us said in no uncertain terms that we wouldn’t be abandoning the injured for any amount of gold. Luna then managed to talk to him and convince him that it would be in his own best interest to keep strength in numbers, because even if the injured would slow us down, having four able bodied warriors as opposed to one was better for him. (In reality she was more worried that the injured people would get killed sticking with just the three of us without her, and tbh so were we, she’s definitely the strongest out of the four of us. Draven would admit it without pause at this point.)

We managed to reopen the temple and get inside, only to be accounted by the undead inhabitant: the remains of the priest who died in blaspheme in his final moments.

Our three holy members smote him, used judgements and blessings to empower our weapons…and all three of us missed all of our attacks. And Luna, the atheist who has a chip on her shoulder about religion, destroyed the undead priest in two attacks with no help from any holy magic at all. She was feeling very smug about it.

We decided to take a rest there. Auriel spent eight hours cleansing and reconsecrating the temple. Draven and Melody spent some time talking to Aravashnial and Anevia. Melody got…inquisitive…and got some backstory from Aravashnial about how his relationship had been ruined due to Anevia’s wife’s attempts to get the riftwardens to work with the crusaders. Then she found out about how Anevia and Aravashnial accidentally almost ruined Horgus’ reputation with accusations of being a worshipper of Baphomet, which ended up being proven to be baseless, but which led to someone ransacking Horgus’ place of work and besmirching his name. Draven, Melody, and Luna gently suggested/twisted Anevia’s arm that she and the other two should have a conversation like adults and apologize to each other because it sounds like they’ve all screwed each other over a bit and if they’re going to work together to get out of here they need to start with a clean slate. She wasn’t happy about it and said it sounded more painful than her broken leg but she reluctantly agreed, and in the morning the three of them did talk and seemed to be on more amicable terms going forward.

The next day the party met a group of people living beneath the city whose appearance was warped by demonic influence, known only as mongrel-men. We helped to rescue one of their number, Krel, from a cave in after convincing them we weren’t there to hurt them. They asked us to come with them to meet their chief, and we agreed.

On the way, we went through a cave, where we found what at first appeared to be two dead Iomedae crusaders. However the weapons they held weren’t longswords, and upon examining their bodies they had an unholy symbol of Baphomet on them. False crusaders, masquerading as one of our order. Draven and Auriel were incensed, and upon learning these people were the reason the village of mutants had thought we were enemies, we had all the more reason to want to meet with their chief. Draven and Auriel had decided we were going cultist hunting.

We met with the chief, who was happy to let us pass through his village if we intended to deal with the Baphomet cultists and the traitors of his people who had joined them. He asked only one thing in returned, which was that once we reached the surface, if we could put in a good word for his people. He believed it was time for them to rejoin the fight against the demons, as they were the descendants of the original crusaders, and the fight against the demons was in their blood. Auriel, Draven, and Anevia agreed to put in a good word for them, and Anevia brought up that her wife, the head of the Eagle Watch, is a half-orc, so times and old biases are changing, and hopefully people will be able to see past appearances.

After stocking up on some supplies, the party made for the fortress of the Baphomet cultists. The alarm got raised immediately, and it was a fight the entire way through. There was a nasty ranger who kept popping up and taking pot shots at Draven (because favored enemy) and he’d knock out most of my health in a single shot despite me having a ton of health for level 1. And then I got poisoned by a monitor lizard. And then I jumped down a hole and got shot again right after healing. And Auriel almost got eaten by an amoeba.

Anyways we slowly pushed our way forward, until we found the cultist of Baphomet, her tiefling servant, and that damn ranger. The cultist told us to throw down our weapons and surrender to be sacrificed at a more dignified location. Each of us said ‘fuck you’ in our own way.

Auriel’s way was to smite evil on her, rush in, and get a critical hit on his attack. He almost killed her in a single attack of holy fury.

Then she retaliated. As did her tiefling servant. Auriel went down. Luna and Melody went after the cultist. Draven went after the tiefling. Then the ranger stepped back out. An arrow in Draven’s back, and he went down too, right next to Auriel, right as Auriel failed his final con save and breathed his last breath.

Melody killed the tiefling. Reinforcements arrived, but at the same time Aravashnial and Anevia arrived—too stubborn to allow themselves to be left behind after all. Luna crit and killed the cultist as she tried to escape with a box she pulled out from the corner she’d been trapped in. The box flew open. A shining holy sword flew out, and stabbed into Auriel’s body. In the place between life and death, the spirit of the sword spoke to Auriel’s spirit, barely held together, and gave him a choice. Did he feel he had completed what he had been out on this path to do? Did he find the answers he’d been seeking? If so, the spirit would guide him to the Boneyard, and final rest. If not, he would return, bound more closely than before to Iomedae’s will.

Auriel decided that he had his answer. In his final act he’d done something in Iomedae’s name, and that was enough for him. He was ready to move on. And so he was guided away, and as shabtis do, when he died his soul shattered. A piece remained with the sword, and allowed Radiance to awaken for Draven—a warpriest, not a paladin, but someone trusted by a paladin so strongly in his final moments that it allowed it nonetheless.

Unconscious, Draven began to hear the sword calling to him, and its magic began to slowly heal his wounds.

At the same time Melody and Luna were brawling with the ranger, who was continuing to be a pain in the ass. I hate this guy. So much. He was played really smart. Good on the GM. But also fuck this guy so much lol.

Aravashnial healed Draven with a potion, and back to consciousness he heard Radiance speaking in earnest. He also saw that the holy blade was planted in his friend and mentee’s chest. For the first time the smile Draven always wears fell. He drew Radiance, stepped over to the ranger who had been shooting him full of holes this entire dungeon, and skewed him without a quip or a flourish.

Draven lost it a bit after that. Melody and Luna both blames themselves and he told them no. Then Melody said not to blame himself but he laughed manically and said it *was* his fault because everyone around him always dies, not because he’s a crusader but because he’s him. Then he carried Auriel’s body back to the underground city. Even Horgus mourned when he saw what had happened.

That night Draven tried to go off on his own but Melody wouldn’t let him. Draven told her it was better if people weren’t around him, to which she disagreed. He told her again that everyone around him dies, to which she disagreed. He told her that he’d run into demons two times before the most recent attack. The first time he lost his family. The second time he lost his friends and his eye. And now this time he lost his city, and his friend, and…possibly even Leto, he realizes. He’d been trying not to think about it, but his best friend, his childhood friend, had been in the city when the demons attacked, he might be dead too. He went a little manic again at the idea that even the golden boy, his brother, the one person who always escaped Draven’s bad luck, might be dead. Melody snapped at him a bit, telling him he wasn’t the only one who had lost people, and that if he was going to make it a one upping thing, then what hurt worse, losing it all at once, or seeing everyone you love slowly wither away and being helpless to do anything? Draven couldn’t and wouldn’t answer that, and Melody didn’t want an answer because there was none. They ended up going their separate ways for the night.

The next day Draven told Melody to forget about everything he’d said. She told him he couldn’t, because that would cheapen everything he’d felt. Draven reluctantly compromised and asked that she just not tell anyone about what they’d talked about, to which she agreed, and he in turn said for fairness sake he wouldn’t share what she’d told him in the heat of the moment either.

The party travelled through the underground until the arrived in a sewer tunnel. They found three orphans, who recognized Luna and were happy to see her. With them was a tiefling woman (Auriel’s player’s backup character), who told the party things had gone to hell outside. And that’s that.

[newnitz]

Howl's Moving Castle & the Power Narrative Holds Over Reality

Like most 90s borns, my first anime was Pokémon. I watched the first three seasons diligently, and my tooth fairy gifts were always VHSs of memorable episodes. But like most Millennials and even Gen-X before us, my first real entryway to Japanese culture was Hayao Miyazaki. On the tiny TV screen, behind even for 2002, where my mother would watch her TV shows as she worked out, I watched Spirited Away. Chihiro/Sen's coming-of-age story and the movie's numerous themes deserves their own essay, and one I think better bloggers, vloggers and ordinary people have written before me. But after such a masterpiece, I jumped at the chance to see the next Studio Ghibli movie, Howl's Moving Castle. I rushed to the local library to read the book before it aired in the nearby city's bus station mall's small cinema. 18 years later, too nauseous for schoolwork and mooching off of my dad's Netflix account, I decided to rewatch this film. ***Spoiler alert for both book AND film*** The film itself is a staunch anti-war message, released around the same time as the invasion of Iraq, informed by Miyazaki's own childhood in the final years of Imperial Japan and the horrors inflicted on his home country to set the stage of the Cold War. The exposition includes a bombing of Sophie's hometown with...banners. The citizens of Ingary are terrified of the flying machines descending upon their skies, they expect bombs and destruction and untold death and unspeakable horrors. So when they instead get rained down paper pieces with pictures and words we are never privy to, they treat it with suspicion. They refuse to so much as touch them, since it's of the enemy. And the day after, when Ingary soldiers distribute their own country's propaganda banners, they drink it down without a second thought. Again, we are never privy to what they say. Perhaps it was meaningless. Perhaps, to the common contemporary viewer, the content would be incomprehensible. But for me, it got me thinking: What if this was the "enemy" spreading missing posters of their prince? What if this was a warning for the townspeople to evacuate, as they expect to take point there? And if it was, what the hell did it accomplish, outside of everything BUT what it tried to? The people are too scared. They see it as psychological warfare, whether intentional or not, and therefore the papers become a terrorizing presence, whether they were filled with graphic threats or pleas for cooperation, all it ended up doing is scaring the population into a deeper layer of hatred. I personally disagree with the film's apparent message, but I agree with how much of war is the matter of spinning the truth. No character represents a better allegory for spinning the truth than Sophie Hatter, the main character of the movie. The first thing we notice about her is how intricate and colorful all her creations are, while she sticks to a plain hat with minimal detail. We see her displeasure with her own appearance even when trying it on in front of the mirror. She dresses plainly for she thinks herself plain - wearing a mousy dress in both the source book and the film adaption. The book elaborates on this narrative and its subversion: In Ingary, fairytale tropes are accepted as divine truths. Sophie and her sister Lettie have had their mother die as toddlers, so when their father remarried and produced a third sister(briefly referenced in the film), Martha, Sophie and Lettie were doomed to be wicked, hideous stepsisters. But not only did their stepmother raised them as her own, but both all the Hatters were stated to be beautiful, with Lettie in particular having the entire town's male population vying for her affection in both book and film. In fact, the cunning one is the designated "Cinderella", Martha, who uses her guile to warn her half-sisters. See, another trope specific to Ingary was that the firstborn of three siblings will never find their luck - if they ever dare try, they will encounter disaster after misfortune and end up poor and miserable. According to Martha, her mother wanted to enjoy a life of luxury, so she sent Lettie to work in a bakery where she will surely find a man of her liking to start a life with, and shipped her own daughter off to be a magic apprentice far far away from her. Sophie is the only one she kept close, because she knew she buys into the tropes and will make her fortune for her, preferring the safety of her late father's shop to the dangers of the unlucky life of a firstborn. But in both film and book, this blissful avoidance of any exploration is torn away in a chance encounter Sophie has with the notorious wizard Howl. While her sister(s) are terrified for her safety, Sophie has no fear of the 'heart-eating monster' as "he only eats the hearts of beautiful girls", believing her plainness protected her. But oh, how she was wrong. Or was she? In both book and film, the Witch of the Wastes barges into the hat shop. In the book, she seeks Lettie whom Howl is taken with(like literally every man in town) and enters the shop where an overworked Sophie loses her temper at her, and mistaking the hatter for her sister, she curses the girl to become old. In the film, she's explicitly exacting revenge on Sophie, whom Howl is interested in, and follows her and invades her shop after closing time, cursing her to be ninety years old. This is supposed to devastate Sophie - rob her of her youth, beauty and health, ending her life before she started them. But in both versions, Sophie acclimates to the change rather well, constantly noticing the perks of living as an old lady - she can mumble to herself and be seen as normal, she can be assertive and commanding without being inappropriate and/or bossy, and since she has nothing to lose, she might as well go exploring the world, if only to lift the curse. To revisit this as someone who didn’t expect to have the option of growing old, this is an empowering message on its own - growing old is what you make of it. But despite subverting the Witch's narrative, Sophie remains a helpless victim of her own narrative. Book Sophie is explicitly said to be a powerful sorceress unaware of her own powers, even enchanting her hats into the client's shape with her words alone, while in the film it's only implied. But in both versions she Unconsciously Maintains Her Own Curse: She reverts to the eighteen year old in her sleep, or when something silences her insecurities enough. In the film, she's explicitly shown to de-age as she gains confidence in herself under the role of the household maid, going from the frail ninety-year-old into someone who looks and acts as a woman just past middle age - I don't think this is incidental, as many women are at their most confident at that age, when they no longer feel pressured to worry about trivial matters such as beauty and childrearing, and retreat back into the original cursed form when Howl calls her beautiful - a compliment she can never accept. In the book, Howl eventually comes to the conclusion that she likes being old and gives up trying to guide her out of it. The book takes narrative subversion even further. Remember cunning Martha? Turns out, the Hatters didn't conform to their mother's narrative either - Martha was bored by wizardry while Lettie craved it. The two concocted a plan to glamour as one another, which of course the mentor witch saw right though, and preferred Lettie's genuine interest to Martha ghosting the craft. This stings extra once Fanny is shown to be a caring mother who attacks who he thought cursed her stepdaughter - perhaps she fell for the same sort of thinking Sophie did, and wanted her stepdaughter to have the best life possible for someone doomed to fail, thought extroverted Lettie enjoyed the attention and choice of men and wanted Martha to be a powerful, self-sufficient young woman who led a life more glamorous than she did, as someone who lacked magic? That Fanny was a real parent - a well-intentioned woman who completely misjudged her children and their future? Is it possible Martha’s own narrative has poisoned her relationship with her mother, perhaps beyond repair? As for Sophie, in the book she breaks her own curse by breaking the contract between Calcifer and Howl. But the film gives it more nuance - Calcifer and Howl are clearly in a codependent relationship: In both versions Howl gave Calcifer his heart in exchange for magical powers (as well as saving the fallen star's life, depending on your interpretation of the character), but by the time Sophie employs herself at the Castle, Calcifer feels more like a slave than a powerful demon. Howl himself has his own internal struggles, and many online have made convincing cases for BPD being among them. Calcifer is an essential part of his support system. Each one of them believes that if Calcifer isn't fed properly, or gets dunked with water, they'll both die. And once Sophie does so to stop the wizened, depowered Witch of the Wastes from literally being consumed by her obsessive desire for Howl, she too believes to have killed them both with her rash actions. But they live, because Sophie's part in a time loop led her to think otherwise and refuse to give up on them. Within the film’s universe, this ties into Sophie’s innate magical powers talking reality into her perception. But I know real-life, ordinary people who’s own narratives have changed grim fates.  Now, I don’t live in Ingary. I don’t believe the world around me has literal, reality-warping magic. I’m not a spiritual person. But this is precisely why Howl’s Moving Castle appealed to me - because the characters’ thoughts don’t perfectly dictate reality, but the way they act on their perceptions does. I know a man who is alive because his (now ex-)wife changed the narrative of his deathbed to one of optimism and efficacy. When I stopped trying to have my self-image reflected in the eyes of others, I transformed into a more confident, capable person practically overnight. I’m not delusional - I’m well aware of the Dunning-Krueger effect, of how reality exists whether you live in it or not. I’d like to think I live strictly within the boundaries of what is proven beyond reasonable doubt to be real. 

But your spin on reality dictates your life. It can dictate parts of the lives of your close ones. But the message isn’t one of just changing your own view of a situation around you to become happy, oh no. Lettie and Martha didn’t just choose to be happy in apprenticeships they had no passion for. Sophie didn’t just relocate to some quaint cottage to live the few years that weren’t stolen from her as an old hermit. They acted to transform the existent reality within their means, but they could only do so because they felt empowered enough to question their life’s narratives. 

[honestsycrets]

The Whore and the Roach || [Geralt x Reader]

❛ pairing | geralt x fem prostitute!reader

❛ type | oneshot

❛ summary | ❝ she doesn’t want to be a prostitute. she just doesn’t know how to get out. he can help.  ❞

❛  warnings | whorehouse, prostitute, minor violence, geralt being a big good bully, protective!geralt

❛  sy’s notes | this is my first shot. it’s SFW. just a little sweetie shot mostly. gif by thewitcherdaily.

A soft wooden brush shifts over the study back of the muddy horse. He chomps on his supper of concentrate and hay to the swift rack of a brush over his back. His tail flicks periodically as he eats, suggesting that perhaps he has relaxed some over his long stay with you while his owner made a visit to Temeria. Your hand shifts over his long tail-- and you replace the soft brush in favour of a wide-toothed comb.

“Much better,” you say, standing off to the side of the horse. With one hand holding the top of the section, the other combs through his tail. The horse kicks out, and you’re suddenly a lot more happy that you were to the side of him rather than directly behind. “Keep still. You haven’t been combed in a while! Tell the Witcher he’s slacking. Better yet, I’ll tell him.”

The Witcher in question slips into the warm cozy stable. His large hulking body walks past you to settle his large hand on top of the chocolate strands of his horse’s mane. You glance to him, perking a small smile.

“You could at least brush him. It’s not enough that he has a foul-smelling Witcher on his back.”

“The pimp,” he states his question. You recognize the White Wolf for having come in some time ago. He spent three nights with someone else.

“Off with Mildritha for the night,” you gesture back. A long hmm slips from his lips. His large fingers weave through the horse’s mane, running his hand upon the side of his horse’s face. Roach, or so he affectionately calls the poor thing, looks up.

“Give this to him.”

The Witcher holds out a cloth bag. One look upon it and you realize it’s the missing coin. If you took it, you knew exactly what would come of it. No way were you taking that. Not on your life-- if something happened to it, you would be the one settled with paying off the Witcher’s debt. From the looks of it, it would be substantial.

“I can’t take that,” you say, the word seeming to snap off of your tongue. The Witcher deadpans and closes his glove around the bag of coin again. He prepares his things over Roach’s back and loin, unmoved by your words. It occurs that this man is perfunctory in every sort of the word. Once settled, he walks toward the door of the stable.

“Wait. Witcher!”

He stops, not bothering to turn. He’s listening, at least.

“Stay until morning. You could stay with me.”

He takes a step forward, clearly denying your request.

“You don’t know what it is like when he is angry. He’ll make me work again!” You say, like an absolute idiot. Living in a whorehouse wasn’t known for being a life of luxury, despite what the slinky red gown would tell others.

“So leave,” he rumbles.

You’re momentarily stunned. “It’s not that easy.”

Most women found it empowering: taking men for the coin they had. Maybe you would too, if there was no pimp to dictate how often you worked. So when your cunt was chafing and aching, you wouldn’t feel your teeth gritting like two hunks of rock sanding a sword. The best thing you could do that night was look exhausted and hoped men looked over you.

“Well. I mean. Some of us can’t choose our destinies,” you gesture humorously toward him. “Some of us are well renown Witchers. Some of us are whores in a house with an angry father. This is my life. I could never leave.”

He stops. Then turns to face you. In a way, meeting his brilliant amber eyes is something that gives you pause. Your eyes shift and falter, falling to the ground again. He lifts you under your arms and settles you up on the horse.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep her steady, Roach.”

It’s now, here, or never. Geralt walks out-- over to the whorehouse, forgetting everything you’ve said in the past. There’s a loud hey! from the inside. “What is he doing?” you whisper out loud-- then sit upright. The scuffle only becomes louder when your plump older father is corralled out with the Witcher lackadaisically, as if this whole ordeal is nothing to be really concerned about. You glance toward him, dressed in his unbuttoned dusty slacks and nothing else.

“Get off,” he motions, glancing over his shoulder. “Hurry the fuck up!”

Between his words and Geralt’s piercing gaze, you know which one of the two you’re paying attention to. Geralt seizes the reins and walks slowly toward the exit of town. There’s something to be said for the pimp’s stubbornness. “You can’t just-- you didn’t pay for her! Hey! Did you hear me, you dirty fucker!”

Then, he makes the wrong choice when he grasps at the other side of Roach’s reins. His chocolaty head jerks, clonking the old man in the face. Geralt stops with the loud splash of his head hitting a deep puddle, just enough to explain himself… somewhat.

“You have your coin.”

From there, there is no response. The town shrinks as Geralt walks on. Every wooden tavern, home, and whorehouse snuffs out their lights. Out of your age old home, there’s a moment. Just a small, lingering moment of uncertainty. You put out those thoughts with the fear and turn back around to the Witcher.

“You paid him for me?” you ask.

Geralt glances toward you. “Yes,” he states. Then, nothing. He’s not much of a talker, and maybe it’s your fault for being a prostitute. Most men only came to prostitutes for one of two reasons. Something told you-- Geralt had his fill of company a few nights ago.

“Then you’ve bought me. Why did you buy me?”

Nothing more than a dull hmm, a noise that indicates he’s at least heard you. Gone from one man to another, your eyes settle over Roach’s mane. Another thought hits you. The wind whistles through the trees on an otherwise quiet night.

“Where are we going?”

“A forest.”

“You’re dangerously talkative, you know. Seems to work out for you.” You glance over. Geralt glances at you at long last. He mounts Roach-- his strong muscles shifting around you to grasp Roach’s reins. His body affords the safety that you’ve gone without for so long, but you don’t want to give into safety. All safety was short lived.

“And what’s in this forest, anyway? Treasure? Another creature?”

“Women,” he answers. “The forest is full of them.”

Maybe he was a Witcher with a one-track mind. You think he has to be to be constantly on the move hopping place. The creaks of the forest aren’t every man’s friend. Unless you were something like him-- something that everyone despised. The bright lights of the town become dimmer and dimmer until they are specks in the dark forest surrounding you.

“That’s not it,” he rumbles.

Woop! There goes that.

“The women there will take you in,” he reasons. “You can’t come with me.”

A gamut of emotions ran through your face-- unsure which was worse or better. Living in the forest with no one you knew? Not even Roach? Though, if you had to guess, being used until your body was dry of the ability to have children was not the best life. You wonder, would the pimp have killed you after that point?

“That’s not exactly a great investment of your coin,” you say. “Buy a whore for nothing?”

“Losses and profits. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Y-- well, no. It’s not my fault if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He’s unreadable. Partially because when he hovers behind you, with his warm and brawny chest behind your back, you can’t see his face. Maybe it was better that way-- being unable to see his deadpan expression, because some times, it’s like looking into the mirror.

“He was my stepfather,” you say. “Been with mother since I was a babe. I thought he cared, y’know, like a father?”

“Seems not,” he clips short. “Caring fathers don’t whore their daughters out for coin.”

No point arguing there.

“For someone that doesn’t have much company, you sure are a know it all.” You grumble, glaring off to the side. Your hand strokes over his mane, not really knowing if its at all for him, or soothing for you. Probably you. Roach doesn’t seem to give a shit one way or another. You carry on like that, making small quips he doesn’t pay attention to until he stops abruptly.

“What?”

“Stopping for the night,” The Witcher grumbles, pulling you off of Roach. He sets you down on crunchy leaves. You glance around, looking toward the tall arching trees, and you follow them to kiss the dark peppered sky. You had never slept outside before. Somehow it was more freeing than sleeping inside.

He’s quick to set up a makeshift camp. Nothing takes too long with the Witcher-- and you suppose that’s out of demand of a man who must run and rush wherever he goes. You stretch out by the crackling fire he’s arranged, glancing over tentatively when he crumpled beside it. It’s cool. Much cooler than you thought it would be. You run your fingers together, pulling your cloak around yourself for added warmth.

“Come over,” he rumbles.

“Come over?” you repeat as if your brain is as empty as the wind that carried through the leaves and chilled your skin.

“You won’t shut up,” he acknowledges from the ground, turning over to pierce you through with his amber eyes. “You’re cold. I don’t want to hear it all night. Come here.”

You lift, trudging his way to sit beside him. It’s not particularly warmer here, if only a little, but just as you gave it that thought, the Witcher dragged you down beside him. The ground is unforgiving. Harder than your back is used to. Maybe, in time, it would become accustomed to a rougher lifestyle. If it meant not being forced another another man, it was worth it.

“There,” he mutters, allowing you to rut close. His chest heaves slow, very low. You listen to the slow beat, his body serving as a shield from the small wind that carries through the forest. Your eyelids become heavy, unusually comfortable with a man. The Witcher-- even. “Now go to sleep.”

@kingniazx​

[jckingsley]

Final Paper (Taking back Feminism)

When I first looked for summer courses that would give me knowledge, but could teach me skills and knowledge about what goes on outside of our country. Allowing you to see what life is for some women in the world. Taking this course in the beginning gave me the idea that this course would talk about the idea about holding feminism into our society strong. Little did I know that our course would take steps even farther to truly define what feminism meant to me. I  was able to really get a sense of feminism, once our class started to read Girl by Jamaica Kincaid. This writer took another approach about feminism, but discussed more in detail why women are generally forced to act or dress in a certain way in the world. I knew that in the beginning of this short story. It wasn't very surprising to realize these chores, the mother telling the daughter to do it all required the woman stereotype of being in the kitchen cooking the food or being the one to do the laundry and keep the clothes clean. The whole story has that same idea to it where women are expected to do certain things and dress a certain way to satisfy the expectations of others. A quote that really stood out to me was “Wash the white clothes on Monday and put them on the stone heap; wash the color clothes on Tuesday and put them on the clothing-line to dry; don’t walk bare-head in the hot sun; cook pumpkin fritters in the hot sweet oil.” (Kincaid 1) After getting a sense of the meaning behind the short story, it gives you a vision on how women in society are faced with the stereotypes of staying in the kitchen, having no control in their lives without men or society dictating them. After reading this on my own, I began to look back at our common place posts. One that stood out to me was my post about women's domestic abuse that was an image of a protest of women. Holding signs stating “Women have rights” or “Women have brains as well” these signs were to give you a sense of how women are feeling in today's society. Being forced and judged about what you can or can’t wear. I feel that the challenges that women face in society are sad. This should not allow women to give up, but use their past to push themselves away from it. Women will get their safe haven soon, just once society gets weak enough to see that everyone is equal and there is no reason for us to be against each other since we are all we have in the world. Being a woman in today's culture is challenging, but the women in other foreign countries have it much worse. Women in China are around 46% of young models, who were raped and sexually abused by most of the men in the town. Women who are Muslim, get the stereotype that all terrorist or even too naive for the rest of the culture in the world. It is truly sad to hear about the women that endure hateful speech or ungrateful looks from other people in society. This is truly sad to happen to these women. Abused and put in situations that impacted their lives forever. The question that goes to my head is how to help? I mean we talk as a society about how we want to stop hunger, shootings, and domestic violence, but after reading this it has changed my perspective to find a way to help women in services that should be run by the government to protect women by giving them a guide or services to help teach them english which would result in better standing in how they can achieve "The American Dream" in there own way. A post that truly impacted me about this topic was my post about women in society. The image forms of a little girl hiding under the table, above her are all the stereotypes and rules women must follow to keep men and society enlightened. This image takes a real step into how our society continues to keep these stereotypes, but actually forces you to think negatively about women in other countries, unfortunately ours as well.

Talking about women who have suffered from harsh circumstances of rape and domestic abuse. Have such a little voice to speak out for themselves because women are scared of what will happen in society if women speak “out of place.” Which is truly disgusting for me to hear that because women always have a choice in their lives, just that men have a choice in there. Really take that in for a second, that women are so terrified about how their citizens near them could find a way to silence them. As society we must stop this madness of forcing stereotypes on all of us. A post that stood out to me from our common place was an image showing multiple signs of where to go. Each of these signs had obligations for women in how they should live their lives. None of these actions allowed women to find themselves or even have the idea open up about sharing their LGBT part of themselves. The “Me Too'' movement was an important thing for women and our society to find strength together and take down men that had been abusing and sexually harassing them. It is sad how much abuse exists in our society against women but I'm glad that women are finding the strength to speak up. A line that stood out to me was  "shaped by other dimensions of their identities". As I was reading this line and looking at the comments of other classmates, I realized that the comment above this one was really interesting and true. This line in the text confirmed that each individual has their own unique experiences. Everyone experiences life in a different way. Everyone has had different childhoods, teenage years, and adulthoods that impact how each person views life.

Reading one of the short stories we read about women hiding their sexual orientation from the world, because of how their country and culture would punish them is unbearable to me. There was a TED Talk that we watched about women domestic abuse and the forced urge to have boys instead of girls. A comment from that TED Talk really stood out to me because in China this does happen a lot. “Poor things, You only have three daughters. But you’re too young, you could still try again.'' (Ramadas 1) This comment changed my perspective about society in foreign countries in how women are basically just “baby makers'' with absolutely no empathy about there's lives. What sick society would tell women that having daughters could be the worst event you could commit than having a boy as your first child. So many events and social arches change how our world truly feels with each other. A post that can put this into more of a realistic image is a post of mine, which the woman is selling on the side of the streets with her four daughters, since she did not have a boy yet. The reason for my post on this was that I want our world to see that this is not normal. To force families to only allow certain genders into their world, if you did not abide by those rules. That is when the government would come in and take control. This worked the same as women in Muslim areas who were forced to hid their sexual orientation from their towns, in order to not get raped or beaten in the streets. Especially the women in Muslim areas who are already given an awful look from the tragic events that happened on 9/11. The real sadness of that statement is that those women in Muslim areas did not have control, yet know that their own folks would hijack a plane and make one of the most biggest stories in America’s history. These women were getting death threats and being hated from most of our population, from being involved in that event. Now is castrated into being a terrorist in society now, even though some of those women were not or had no little knowledge of the hijacking. 

Wrapping up this semester on Women's Writing Worldwide opened my eyes as well as my perspective on how women in society are treated and how they should act in our day. I envy women who are strong enough to look past all the hate from society and pursue themselves in either a career path or even a start in a movement that would change women's lives all over the world. A TED Talk from Ramades stated that most women in Muslim areas are not open to the idea of LGBT community and think of their daughters as “sick” to cover the fact that these women were not just “sick” but were “queer” and proudly accepted with it. Music is a crucial part of human communication. This is an example of music being so empowering for these women who fight to be accepted. Music will always be a part of the rebellion, from Footloose to these folk singers it holds people up. The songs also hold history and that can be seen in many cultures. Women in Muslim areas face this hurt from all over, not being able to show another side of their lives. Being forced to only show parts of your life that society only wants to see. This type of mindset is what keeps our world from moving ahead. Our society is so fixated on how we should control each other, but really it should be how we all can get along with each other despite all of the judgmental looks we humans get as a society.

[halequeenjas]

Superstars || Alejandra & Jasmine

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @alejandra-solano & @halequeenjas SUMMARY: Jasmine takes Alejandra to Siren’s Serenade for a night of karaoke. They leave as very inspired divas.

Jasmine had always been a social butterfly. Ever since she was a kid, she found she loved having a large circle of friends and people to hang out with. Even more so, she loved being the center of attention but that was neither here nor there. When it came to a girls night, all that mattered was a good time which usually entailed wine, good music, and occasionally acting as wing women. After chatting with Ally online, Jasmine decided could use the town’s ultimate gal pal. She did move here from across the pond and all. A karaoke bar seemed like a fun place to get to know each and was a little more laid back than the jazz bar she usually frequented. Even from outside, she could tell this spot had a good energy going. When she saw a woman approaching that looked like Ally’s profile picture, she waved and smiled eagerly. “Hey,” she greeted excitedly, “I hope you like cocktails and karaoke because this place seems to have a great crowd tonight… and admittedly I love karaoke.” 

 Ally had a nervous excitement about hanging out with someone outside of work. Jasmine seemed so cool, and easy to talk to, and fun. It felt like a first date, and Ally wanted to impress. She fussed with her hair more than she was used to, and took a few deep breaths in the mirror before she headed out. When Ally pulled up to the bar she noticed a microphone by the name on the sign. Before she could really think about it she was out of the car and walking toward Jasmine who was waving her down. She smiled excitedly until the word karaoke fell from the other girls lips. “Yeah, great crowd, and I love a good cocktail.” she said, folding her arm. “So when you say karaoke is it like an open mic night type deal or am I like...singing. Because let me tell you, it’s not good, my voice.” she explained. 

 Jasmine swayed in her seat to the sound of some middle-aged white man singing that one Journey song that always seemed to get people going. It wasn’t a bad song though his voice left much to be desired. That was half the fun of karaoke though. When the bartender approached, she smiled widely and asked, “I’ll take a raspberry margarita, and whatever my friend is having.” She gestured to Ally to put her order in. There was definitely an upbeat energy in the place and she was ready to get their names on the karaoke list. She could tell Ally wasn’t as enthused by that part. She laughed and assured, “Oh, it’s definitely us doing the singing. But no one expects karaoke to be good. I mean, look at wannabee Tyler whatever up there. It’s all about having fun. It’s actually more fun when it’s bad… not that I can relate, but still.” Once their drinks were in front of them, she added, “I’m thinking of starting my night off with some Mariah Carey. Or maybe Beyonce. What about you?” 

 Ally looked at Jasmine, seeming so comfortable, and felt jealous. She felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb wherever she went. Maybe that’s what she liked about being a cop, when she was on the clock, she could blend in. Ally smiled at the bartender, “Just a beer please.” she said. She heard the whine of the man singing on the stage near her and winced. “Let’s do two beers.” she amended. When Jasmine made it clear that she was a good singer, Ally noted that she should probably go first. She watched the current singer leave the stage, looking more confident than when they approached. Maybe it would be good for her. “I spent my childhood singing JLo, so I guess I should do her justice.” she said, taking a big gulp of her beer. There was silence as the podium was abandoned. “Rip the bandaid off Solano.” she said, standing up and walking to the podium, about to give the worst performance of her life.  

When she was done, she felt different, like she wasn’t just Ally Solano. She was someone bigger. Brighter. She motioned wildly for Jasmine to come up and join her.

Jasmine couldn’t help but laugh as Ally ordered herself an extra beer to get her through the prospect of karaoke. Plenty of her friends were inclined to grab a shot of tequila before karaoke. That’d never been her go to… unless there were shots of Don Julio or Patron, but she was more than happy to go up on stage sober. In fact, she relished in being in the spotlight. “I’m sure you’ll be great. It’s all about having fun anyway,” she assured as the bartender handed them their drinks. At the mention of JLo, she perked up. “Oh, good choice. Have always had love for my girl JLo. Who doesn’t love good ‘ol Jenny from the block?” As Ally made her way to the stage, Jasmine took her drink into the crowd around the small stage and cheered as Ally got on stage. Her woops were the loudest and inspired some of the others to cheer as well. As Ally sang, she seemed to get more and more into it. Her voice wasn’t bad even if she was no song bird and everyone enjoyed singing along to JLo. She smiled brightly as Ally motioned for her to come on stage, seemingly more confident than she was moments ago. Once she was on stage with mic in hand, she said, “Give it up for my new friend, Ally… Or should I say, Jenny from the block. I’m going to keep up the 90s classics and give you my rendition of Mariah Carey.

When the music started, Jasmine confidently sang along to Always Be My Baby as she knew every word by heart. She moved and swayed along with the music and she swore as she kept going, she felt more and more empowered. Important. When she finished, she ate up the applause and thanked the crowd goers. She very specifically felt ready for a VIP lounge now. After all, she was Mariah Carey. “Jen,” she exclaimed as she got off stage and joined her fellow songtress, “What do you say we find a VIP club and make a whole night of this? Maybe another song or two first… we can’t disappoint the fans.” 

 Ally heard Jasmine’s whoops from the crowd and appreciated the support. Was this what it was like to have a best friend. Ally had a hard time making really good friends. She had coworkers and her books, and that was all she had needed. When Jasmine called her Jenny from the block she realized she was Jenny from the block. It was as if she was realizing something she should have known the whole time. Jasmine sang, her voice ringing strong and beautiful throughout the bar. People were turning their heads and swaying along. “Is there a good VIP club around here? I’m amazed the fans aren’t swarming. Super cool of you all!” she shouted, laughing uncontrollably. “Have we ever done a duet? It’ll make headlines.” she gasped. A part of her mind wondered who this was, but a part of her liked who she was. “Mariah Carey and Jennifer LOPEZ!” she announced into a mic, walking back onto the stage. There were a few disgruntled girls waiting their turn. Didn’t they know she was a celebrity. She winked at them, “I’ll sign something later for you girls.” 

 Jasmine knew a club up the block that had a good VIP section and happened to have her favorite champagne. Normally, she didn’t switch from margaritas to wine, but champagne felt necessary. However, her attention was caught at the mention of a duet. An eyebrow raised and there was a devious smirk upon her face. “Jenny, you always have the best ideas,” she exclaimed dramatically. The crowd of course seemed to cheer them on though she was not sure what was with the weird looks. She shrugged it off before getting back on stage with her girl JLo and doing a rendition of No Scrubs by TLC. It was a good song for a duet and forever a mood. The pair sang and danced along happily until the song was over. They got a good applause though not what she would expect given their level of stardom. As promised, they stopped by a group of young girls and gave them their autographs. The girls looked confused. They were younger, but her and her friend were timeless. They’d realize the gold mine they just got soon enough. She walked back up to the bar and looked at the bartender expectantly. “Be a dear and get our checks for us please. The club needs us.” 

 Ally sang alongside Jasmine, dancing and winking to members of the audience. This new confidence surged through her. When Jasmine asked for the checks Ally laughed and looked at the bartender, “Do you know who we are?” Why should someone of her caliber have to pay. Think of the PR that the bar was getting. “That performance is worth several thousand dollars. Easy.” she said. In the back of her mind, a nagging voice asked why she was acting like this, she was never like this. Around her, she heard some of the other karaoke singers making the same proclamation. This little bar really attracted the stars. “The club needs us.” she reaffirmed and turned to leave.

Jasmine shook her head. More often than not, bars covered her tab seeing as she was an international superstar, but alas, that wasn’t always the case. “Jenny, don’t worry about it. I’ve got this.” She flashed the bartender a flirtatious smile before handing him her American Express card. Given this poor guy was working as a bartender in what was frankly a sad little town, she decided to use her Mariah Carey bank account to leave an obscenely large tip. “The club awaits,” she exclaimed, linking arms with Jenny to leave for their night on the town. Their shoes, after all, were made for dancing and so were they.

[danielmouradjensen]

Canterbury Tales - in a historical/social context

In this essay the reader will be enlighten with an extremely short introduction to Canterbury Tales and the skillful poet behind this unique master piece, written in Middle English. Due to the size and focus of the paper, the Pardoner’s Tale, the Parson’s Tale and the wife of Bath’s Tale, including the prologues, will be selected among the 24 stories in Canterbury Tales. It will therefore be these three tales, which will be placed in a historical and social context. The main question in the essay is, “Which historical events are worth mentioning when discussing, the three specific tales, in Canterbury Tales?”

In Canterbury Tales (1387 - 1400.), the readers are introduced with a variety of personalities, like the Pardoner, the Parson, the Clerk, the Knight and the Wife of Bath. These mentioned characters are all pilgrims heading towards Canterbury. The tales are not written in Latin or French, which were languages preferred at that time but in Middle English. The Canterbury Tales were meant for a specific group of people and not the whole population in England1. Reading aloud was regarded as a social event in the time Chaucer.

It is also presumed that Geoffrey Chaucer did not write to achieve the benefits of fame. Canterbury Tales were of course handwritten on various manuscripts because it was much later, more specific, in the year 14762, that William Caxton introduced the first printing press in England. When the tales, which are quite amusing, were written, it was in a time or period of war, sickness and despair. It is from within the tales that the reader learns more about the society in the late Middle Ages. It is worth mentioning, that Chaucer had an advantage among his peers, in that he was a member of the court of King Richard II of England (1367-1400).

Furthermore, it is quite important to take notice that Chaucer the Poet uses a light satirical tone when introducing the many characters, in the different tales. Geoffrey Chaucer, as the genius he was, created a persona who is himself, in order to be part of the tales. In Canterbury Tales, the author and the narrator merge - another unique feature in the tales.

The Pardoner’s tale, the Parson’s tales and the Wife of Bath

As promised, the three tales will be placed in a historical (social) context: the role of the Church in England, the Great Western Schism, the Lollards, and the Hundred Year’s War as well as the Black Death. The Peasants’ Revolt, in 1381, will unfortunately not be discussed in this essay. This historical event would be interesting in connection with especially the Knight’s Tale.

The Pardoner’s tale

But, sirs, one thing that slipped my memory when I spoke my tale: I've relics, pardons in My pouch, in England none could finer be, The pope's own hand entrusted them to me. If anyone devoutly has resolved To make a gift and by me be absolved, Come forth at once and meekly on your knees Receive my pardon. Or, if you so please, Take for yourself a pardon as you go--One fresh and new at every town--just so You offer to me, all the while we ride, Some pence and nobles that are bonafide. (l. 919 – 930, Canterbury Tales, “the Pardoner’s Tale”)3

Is the Pardoner a charlatan or a true holy man? Geoffrey Chaucer describes this character as a man more interested in selling relics and enjoy life’s pleasures than helping others of the goodness of his heart. As an example from “The Pardoner's Portrait”: “He'd make more money in one day alone Than would the parson two months come and gone. So he made apes, with all the tricks he'd do, Of parson and of congregation too.” (l. 703 – 706, Canterbury Tales, “General Prologue”)4. However, in line 708 Chaucer writes: “In church he was a fine ecclesiastic”. The theme in the Pardoner´s tale is that the root to all evil is money. And money is what the pardoner likes. A greedy man who speaks about greed. Again, it becomes evident that Chaucer does not find the Pardoner worthy of his position as a man of the Church. Because of irony, the reader has to read between the lines.

In the late Middle Ages many historical events occurred, among them was the Western Schism (1378-1417), which resulted in a slit of the Roman Catholic Church. During a very long period, rivalries for the papacy led to a deep political crisis within the Church. Even after the truce with France, in 1389, England continued, very firmly, to support Rome, not Avignon, and would not offer any real solutions to end the Schism5. In the tales, it is also from Rome where the church authority derives from.

It is here, it is very interesting to talk about the role or status of the Church in England, during the lifetime of Chaucer. Was the Church in England strong or weak? At the time of Chaucer, the church was weak due to the Western Schism, mentioned above, the Black Death (1346–1353) and greedy/selfish churchmen6.

In England, the Black Death, which almost killed half of the population and the Hundred Years' War (1337-1453), led to an increase of self-serving churchmen – like the Pardoner in Canterbury Tales. The people of England were in pain and needed help and guidance, which meant a great opportunity for greedy and self-absorbed men of the church to exploit it. To further elaborate on the Hundred Years' War, which Geoffrey Chaucer himself participated in, even more death and suffering befell the people of England. France was also hurting and bleeding. The long war did not only bring serious social and economic changes in the English and French societies but also affected the writing of Geoffrey Chaucer.

The Black Death had a huge impact on the English society as a whole, not only were people dying but the way they died was horrific. There is a line/phrase saying: “there were hardly enough living to care for the sick and bury the dead”7. The plague affected the economy, politics and religion. It also had an impact on culture and arts. What is quite interesting is that the plague as well as the Hundred Years' War actually empowered the people.

Geoffrey Chaucer knew because of his place in the higher classes, the realities of the church and the abuses of the clergy. This gave Chaucer the opportunity to use humorous irony in the tales. Making fun of the mischiefs of the clergy was not something new at that time8. In addition to this, Chaucer was acquainted with John Wyclif, theologian and reformer, which contributed to a harsher stand towards the clergy in England.

No institution in fourteenth-century England was so often the object of satire as the Church. The great organization, with its wealth, its power, and its conservative traditions, might have been expected to offer a safeguard against social decay; but the Church itself was a fruitful breeding-ground for the very things, which were disorganizing feudal society. (A Chaucer handbook, p. 35)9

Going in depth with the Pardoner’s Tale, Death has a vital role, and might be viewed as the plague, which, stated above, ravaged England. Death, or the personification of Death, was something that Chaucer’s audience could identify with. The Pardoner’s Tale is the only tale set during the Black Plague.

The Parson’s Tale

There was a good man of religion, too, A PARSON of a certain township who Was poor, but rich in holy thought and work. He also was a learned man, a clerk; The Christian gospel he would truly preach, Devoutly his parishioners to teach. Benign he was, in diligence a wonder, And patient in adversity, as under Such he'd proven many times. And loath He was to get his tithes by threatening oath; For he would rather give, without a doubt, To all the poor parishioners about From his own substance and the offerings. (l. 477 – 489, Canterbury Tales, “General Prologue”)10

In the Parson’s Tale, the reader is now introduced to a different character than the Pardoner. It is the last and longest tale in Canterbury Tales. The funny thing is that, the tale is not even a tale:

It is a penitential manual,  a  curious  choice  because  nearly  all such  vehicles  of religious  in­struction were prepared  by the clergy or by mystics.  It is largely derivative, using  material common  to  so  many  treatises  that  only  a few  of the  actual sources can be established with some certainty. (Sermon and Penitential in The Parson’s Tale and their Effect on Style, p. 125)11

The Parson tells the others that he does not want to amuse them and therefore he chooses instead a sermon. From the Prologue: “You won't get any fable told by me; For Saint Paul, as he writes to Timothy, Reproves those who abandon truthfulness for fable-telling and such wretchedness.” (l. 31 - 34, Canterbury Tales, “The Parson's Tale PROLOGUE”)12

He could definitely be viewed as a more positive face of the church, according to Chaucer, than the persona, which the Pardoner represented. It is also worth noticing that, from the descriptions in the Prologue, the Parson, the Knight and the Ploughman represent the three traditional spheres of medieval society13.

It could also be worth placing “the Parson’s Tale” in context with the Lollards. As mentioned before, Chaucer was in contact with John Wyclif, who was convinced that the Bible and God had the highest authority and that the clergy should not own property. He also translated the Bible into Middle English14, which made it a lot easier for those who did not understand Latin. The Lollards followed John Wyclif and in the beginning, his supporters were from Oxford University and the royal court but the “movement” became increasingly popular outside “the inner circle”. The Lollards were critical towards the Church, which of course made them quite unpopular with the established clergy. The monastic leaders were not keen to follow or abide the views of John Wyclif and his followers. During the Black Death, Wyclif saw many flaws and weaknesses in the Church. It was believed that Rome was the enemy, and that the devote Christian only needed the local pastor and congregation15. The Lollards also saw sacraments as fake, which meant the reformers wanted to change the core in the Catholic Church. Wyclif died naturally even though the Church wanted him executed for heresy.  

There could also be links between Parson’s tale and the ideas of the Lollards. According to Frances McCormack,16 there could be some similarities with the vocabulary in the tale and that of the Lollards. As also stated in the beginning that Chaucer did not write to a large group of people, he had a specific audience (like the royal court) and among these members were those who, in one way or another, supported the ideas of the Lollards.

The Wife of Bath’s Tale

She was a worthy woman all her life: At church door with five men she'd been a wife,             Not counting all the company of her youth.(No need to treat that now, but it's the truth.) She'd journeyed to Jerusalem three times; Strange rivers she had crossed in foreign climes; She'd been to Rome and also to Boulogne, To Galicia for Saint James and to Cologne, And she knew much of wandering by the way. She had the lover's gap teeth, I must say. With ease upon an ambling horse she sat, Well wimpled, while upon her head her hat Was broad as any buckler to be found. (l. 459– 471, Canterbury Tales, “General Prologue”)17

Another very interesting character and pilgrim in Canterbury Tales is the Wife of Bath who sounds more like a modern woman and a feminist from the late 20th century than a woman from the late Middle Ages. This eccentric character, actually named Alison (line 804, The Wife of Bath's Tale PROLOGUE), is not afraid to speak her mind about former husbands, marriage and her sex-life. She does not sound like what a typical pilgrim should be and act. As an example, in the following quote, the reader learns what men’s “instruments” are actually used for:

That learned men I not provoke to oath, I mean to say that they were made for both--That is, both for relief and for our ease To procreate, so God we not displease. Why else should men into their ledgers set That every man yield to his wife her debt? And how can he pay this emolument Unless he use his simple instrument? That's why upon all creatures these are set, To urinate and also to beget. (l. 125 - 134, Canterbury Tales, “The Wife of Bath's Tale PROLOGUE”)18

She is one of the few women among the pilgrims, but she is not afraid to speak her mind and rebel against the patriarchal powers19. The Pardoner tries to interrupt her by flatter, but it does not work and she continuous:

The Pardoner spoke up immediately. "Now dame, by God and by Saint John," said he, "As a noble preacher on the case you'll pass. I almost wed a wife, but then, alas, Why buy it with my flesh, a price so dear? I'd rather not get married, not this year." "Abide," she said, "my tale is not begun! No, you'll be drinking from another tun, Before I'm through, that tastes much worse than ale. (l. 163 - 171, Canterbury Tales, “The Wife of Bath's Tale)20

In “Feminist Readings in Middle English Literature”, a very important point is made: “Recognition of the cultural meanings that are spoken through female voices can be a starting place for the exploration of forms of power and power relations in the Middle Ages.”21 The Wife of Bath (still looking for husband number six), is also a woman who has been on several pilgrimages. Furthermore, she is a woman who travels alone. In her tale, the readers learn about the knight, who rapes a fair maiden and as a punishment/challenge must answer what it is women what most of all. The queen who offers the knight a second chance is none other than Guinevere, the wife of King Arthur. What is important to point out, is that stories of King Arthur were quite popular at the time of Chaucer. Alison speaks of magic and magical creatures, which at that time, the established Church viewed as pagan beliefs. The tale begins with:

In the old days of King Arthur, today Still praised by Britons in a special way, This land was filled with fairies all about. The elf-queen with her jolly little rout In many a green field often danced. (l. 857 - 861, Canterbury Tales, “The Wife of Bath's Tale)22

When exploring the Wife of Bath’s tale in a historical context, it is also interesting to look at the Beguines in the mid and late Middle Ages. The Beguines were women who devoted their lives to God. In a time where there were more women than men, this specific life of a Beguine provided a safe haven for women without husbands.

The conclusion of the essay

When the Geoffrey Chaucer created the 24 spectacular tales, which were not only amusing and ironic/satirical, it was in a period of war, illness and despair. It is from within the tales and prologues that the reader has the opportunity to study the English society in the late Middle Ages. It is also worth mentioning, that Chaucer had an advantage among his countrymen, in that he was a member of the court of King Richard II of England (1367-1400).

A crucial religious and historical event took place in the western Christian world, which without doubt affected the religious thoughts and views of many people, in the different layers of the societies, in the late Middle Ages. The Western Schism (1378-1417) resulted in a slit of the Roman Catholic Church. During a very long period, rivalries for the papacy and/or authority led to a deep political crisis within the Church.

At the time of Chaucer, the church was weak due to the Western Schism, mentioned earlier, the Black Death (1346–1353) and corrupted churchmen.

In England, the Black Plague, which almost exterminated half of the population and the Hundred Years' War (1337-1453), led to an increase of self-serving churchmen – like the greedy Pardoner in Canterbury Tales. The people of England were in pain and were in seek of help and guidance, which meant a great opportunity for greedy and self-absorbed men of the church to exploit it. As mentioned in the essay, the Black Death had a huge impact on the English society as a whole, not only were the population dying but the way they died was unbelievable. There is a line/phrase, to further illustrating the Black Plague, saying: “there were hardly enough living to care for the sick and bury the dead”. The Black Death affected the economy, politics and religion. It also changed the culture and arts (including, the writing of Chaucer).

Placing “the Parson’s Tale” in context with the Lollards, makes som sense. As mentioned before, Chaucer was in contact with John Wyclif, who was convinced that it was only God and the Bible, which had the real authority. That the clergy should not possess property, which they indeed did. The Lollards were critical towards the Church, which of course made them quite unpopular with the clergy. The monastic leaders were not keen to follow or abide the radical views of John Wyclif and his supporters. During the Black Death, Wyclif saw many flaws and weaknesses in the established Church. Geoffrey Chaucer knew, due to his status and as member of the royal court, the realities of the church and the abuses of the clergymen. This gave Chaucer the opportunity to use humorous irony in the tales. Chaucer had an idea on how the clergy should act and was frustrated with how they actually acted, as an example the Parson vs. the Pardoner.

It is also worth recalling that, from the descriptions in the Prologue, the Parson, the Knight and the Ploughman represent the three traditional spheres of medieval society. Another very interesting female character and pilgrim in Canterbury Tales is the Wife of Bath. She sounds more like a modern woman and a feminist from the late 20th century than a woman from the late Middle Ages. She might even represent some women in this specific period.

Bibliography

Blades,William. The Life and Typography of William Caxton, England's First Printer - With Evidence of his Typographical Connection with Colard Mansion, the Printer at Bruges. Cambridge University Press, 2014.

Byrne, Joseph. Encyclopedia of the Black Death. ABC-CLIO, 2012.

Creighton, James Joseph. Chaucer's Presentation of the Church in the Canterbury Tales. Master’s theses, Loyola University Chicago, 1957

Evans, Ruth and Leslie Johnson. Feminist Readings in Middle English Literature: The Wife of Bath and All Her Sect. Routledge, 2005.

French, Robert Dudley. A Chaucer handbook. New York, 1947.

Manly, John Matthews. Some New Light on Chaucer. Henry Holt, 1926.

McCormack, Frances Mary. Author of Chaucer and the Culture of Dissent: The Lollard Context and Subtext of the Parson's Tale Four. Courts Press, 2007.

Palmer, J. J. N.. England and the Great Western Schism, 1388-1399”, The English Historical Review Vol. 83, No. 328 .Jul., 1968.

Rowland, Beryl. Sermon and Penitential in The Parson’s Tale and their Effect on Style. Florilegium 9, 1987.

Black Death: The lasting impact by Professor Tom James, last accessed Monday, October 24, 2016, http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/middle_ages/black_impact_01.shtml

General Prologue, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, english.fsu.edu/canterbury/general.html

John Wycliffe and The Lollards, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, http://sites.fas.harvard.edu/~chaucer/special/varia/lollards/lollards.html

The Pardoner's Tale, last accessed Friday, October 21, 2016, http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/pardoner.html

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The Wife of Bath's Tale PROLOGUE, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/wifepro.html

1 John Matthews Manly, Some New Light on Chaucer (Henry Holt, 1926), 76.

2 William Blades, The Life and Typography of William Caxton, England's First Printer - With Evidence of his Typographical Connection with Colard Mansion, the Printer at Bruges (Cambridge University Press, 2014), 62-63.

3 The Pardoner's Tale, last accessed Friday, October 21, 2016, http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/pardoner.html

4 General Prologue, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, english.fsu.edu/canterbury/general.html

5 J. J. N. Palmer, ”England and the Great Western Schism, 1388-1399”, The English Historical Review Vol. 83, No. 328 (Jul., 1968): 516

6 James Joseph Creighton, “Chaucer's Presentation of the Church in the Canterbury Tales”, (Master’s theses, Loyola University Chicago, 1957): 13

7 Black Death: The lasting impact by Professor Tom James, last accessed Monday, October 24, 2016, http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/middle_ages/black_impact_01.shtml

8 James Joseph Creighton, “Chaucer's Presentation of the Church in the Canterbury Tales”, 11

9 Robert Dudley French, A Chaucer handbook (New York, 1947)

10 General Prologue, last accessed Sunday, Monday 24, 2016, english.fsu.edu/canterbury/general.html

11 Beryl Rowland, “Sermon and Penitential in The Parson’s Tale and their Effect on Style”, Florilegium 9 (1987): 125

12 The Parson's Tale PROLOGUE, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, english.fsu.edu/canterbury/parsonpro.html

13 Black Death: The lasting impact by Professor Tom James, last accessed Monday, October 24, 2016, http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/british/middle_ages/black_impact_01.shtml

14 John Wycliffe and The Lollards, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, http://sites.fas.harvard.edu/~chaucer/special/varia/lollards/lollards.html

15 Joseph Byrne, Encyclopedia of the Black Death (ABC-CLIO, 2012), 214

16 Frances Mary McCormack, Author of Chaucer and the Culture of Dissent: The Lollard Context and Subtext of the Parson's Tale (Four Courts Press, 2007)

17 General Prologue, last accessed Sunday, Monday 24, 2016, english.fsu.edu/canterbury/general.html

18 The Wife of Bath's Tale PROLOGUE, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/wifepro.html

19 Ruth Evans and Leslie Johnson, Feminist Readings in Middle English Literature : The Wife of Bath and All Her Sect (Routledge, 2005), 1.

20 The Wife of Bath's Tale, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/wife.html

21 Ruth Evans and Leslie Johnson, Feminist Readings, 2.

22 The Wife of Bath's Tale, last accessed Sunday, October 23, 2016, http://english.fsu.edu/canterbury/wife.html

[hussein-allam]

Plato’s Recipe for Disaster

In the “Republic”, Plato argues that a good life can only be achieved by living justly. Justice however is not a straight forward concept and it could mean different things to different people. This conundrum becomes apparent as Plato’s discussion with his companions reveals multiple and often starkly contrasting interpretations. Plato realizes the importance of clearing up the confusion and attempts to pin down exactly what justice entails in order to light the way towards a good life. He proceeds to do that by likening the soul to a city where the best soul will mirror the best city. The devil however is in the details. As Plato constructs his model hypothetical city bit by bit with the goal of structuring a just and virtuous society within it, he arguably puts forward a vision that, if implemented, would produce one of the worst and most powerful tyrannies ever conceived.

Plato’s city contains three distinct classes of citizens: the rulers (guardians), the auxiliaries (a professional military), and the working class (laborers, traders, agriculturalists, etc.). The rulers, who are highly educated and knowledgeable, correspond to the rational decision making component of the soul; the auxiliaries symbolize the spirited part which is responsible for anger and impulsiveness; while the working class represents the appetites and bodily needs that tug at the soul. The interplay between these three components and the delineation of responsibilities amongst them, if done in a balanced and harmonious way, results in a temperate city or soul.

Temperance in the soul Plato defines as a sort of order in which rationality gains friendly mastery over the base pleasures and appetites. In this, rationality is aided by the soul’s spirited component which steadfastly upholds and empowers it despite the urges of the appetites as they go through pains and pleasures (131). When this happens and rationality is able to maintain a clear perspective about threats and fears a person is said to be courageous. In the context of the city, this translates as the ruling class securing consensual control over the auxiliaries and the workers. The rulers, exercising their fortitude and wisdom, are able to hold the appetite of the masses in check and rule the city to its collective advantage. In this they are aided by the auxiliaries who’s impulsiveness and propensity to lash out is transformed (by their training and education) into courage that is directed against legitimate threats or terrors (115), who’s presence is a force against chaos and rebellion, and who serve to defend the city against outside aggression. The working classes recognize the competence and wisdom of the ruling strata and willingly submit to their authority.

With the three classes thus interacting harmoniously together, not meddling nor encroaching on the others’ roles and responsibilities, justice is achieved (119). This just and harmonious situation guarantees that factions are non-existent within the city allowing its inhabitants to advance together and effectively act in concert (31). Within the context of the just soul, rationality is in control keeping the appetites at bay (neither starving them nor allowing them to run wild) and harnessing the power of the spirited component towards good and temperate actions. The just person is free from internal contradictions, strife, or guilt and is able to function well as an effective and useful member of society. He is able to keep his body healthy by physical exercise and his soul engaged by music and art safeguarding it from mental illness and depression (133). Other benefits accrue as well for the just person: friendship with the gods (which would presumably result in reward on earth and the afterlife); happiness; fulfilling the virtue of the soul by effectively carrying out its duties to rule, deliberate, and take care of things (34); and generally avoiding poor conduct such as theft, betrayal, adultery, and disrespect for elders (132). As a result he will be esteemed by his community and will enjoy a good reputation (293) as his friends and neighbors look up to him as a role model. Furthermore, the just person will, by virtue of the personal balance and harmony he has achieved, will be able to enjoy “the best pleasures and — to the degree possible — the truest” (289). The ‘good life’ is now at hand.

This contrasts sharply with the unjust person who is ruled by his passions and is unable to restrain his spending which causes him to fall into debt and bankruptcy; is abusive to his parents and puts his lovers before them; is driven to steal and expropriate the property of others; and who eventually betrays his country by seeking the aid of its enemies to enslave it (275). Such a person would be the furthest away from happiness and will lead a paranoid and wretched life. This is mirrored in the unjust city which falls into illiberality with all but a few of its citizens becoming enslaved and impoverished (277). Furthermore the unjust city lives in fear (whether imagined or real) of uprisings or raids from neighbors and wars from just cities.

If Plato’s creation of this mythical city had no other purpose than to illustrate the complexities of the soul and how justice might come to be within it, we might be contented with his analysis and accept his methodology. However, in creating this city, Plato laid out a plan for an allegedly superior political system that others may seek to implement literally or that he himself was promoting as a new alternative for Greek society. It is therefore important to dive in and explore the details of this system to establish whether it is indeed harmonious and just.

Plato begins by painting a portrait of normal people working and going about their lives in an urban gathering. As they grow in numbers and seek to improve their quality of life, they begin to expand their territory and possibly take over areas belonging to neighboring towns. Consequently he creates the warrior class to defend the city and aid in its expansion. To do so, he sets up a program of indoctrination that targets children at an early age to mould them as desired. To ensure that his program is successful, he expropriates the cultural heritage of the city and brings it under state control. Traditions and legends that are judged to be inappropriate or stand contrary to the state’s goals are abolished. Only narratives conducive to the creation of a fierce and courageous warrior class are allowed. This is Plato’s first ingredient in his recipe for disaster. He stifles free expression and the arts and allows what amounts to government-directed propaganda to dominate. Additionally, he actively stops talent and creativity from settling in the city and opts instead to “employ a more austere and less pleasant poet and story-teller” one whose “stories fit the patterns we laid down at the beginning, when we undertook to educate our soldiers (79).” Young children with as yet uncritical minds have no choice but to sponge up the official programming which is now devoid of anything that is not consistent with a single minded warrior: “For the young cannot distinguish what is allegorical from what is not. And the beliefs they absorb at that age are difficult to erase and tend to become unalterable” (59).

His next step is to brainwash the citizenry into believing a monumental lie of his own creation which he justifies by stating that he does so for their own good. Using state propaganda he explains that the gods created three kinds of people: those with gold mixed into their souls (the rulers), those with silver (the auxiliaries), and those with iron and bronze (the workers) (100). He thus cements his three-class society into a socially immobile, brainwashed, stratified monstrosity built on falsehoods. Rulers are suddenly ordained by the heavens to rule by virtue of a god-given gilded right to which all the people must submit owing to the inferior metals coursing through their souls.

To ensure that his design is as resilient as possible, Plato decrees that children with potential are selected at a young age and separated into an encampment where they will lead a communal life of training and studying to become auxiliaries and rulers (101). In one fell swoop, gifted children are deprived of their parents. What impact will such an upbringing have on them? Will this create psychologically disturbed adults? It seems that Plato is creating a whole class of orphans – for better or worse. In fact, he goes further and abolishes the nuclear family altogether mandating that “friends share everything in common” (108). Love therefore is eliminated and the union of man and woman is reduced to a superficial fleeting moment arranged with the sole purpose of begetting children. This is a regimented emotional desert-scape that leaves no room for one of the most fundamental forces that define what it means to be human. How could this loveless state-dominated deprivation result in anything but stilted monolithic dysfunctional soldiers? How will just rulers emerge from this aloof class if they have been isolated since childhood from the majority of their people and simply cannot identify with their daily struggles?

Fans of the Republic may counter these arguments by maintaining that Plato’s city is only a model (or in platonic terminology, a form) with its wise benevolent rulers ensuring that the model is adequately insulated against the possibility of devolving into real world historical tyrannies. This position is unsound. A model must take reality and human nature into consideration. It must have in-built checks and balances that safeguard against the all too common tendency of humanity to slip into downward spirals of totalitarianism and malevolent dictatorship.

Plato realizes that his model is not fool proof and is vulnerable to deterioration and cycling into other forms of rule. This vulnerability however results from the rulers’ deviation from the laws that the model has set out for breeding and procreation when “they beget children when they should not” (241). He does not recognize that the rulers together with the system itself are the problem. He does not realize that he has created a blue print for a supercharged puritanical tyranny that is based on an ideology of superiority where the rulers actually believe that they have exclusive monopoly over truth and wisdom. No room is made for any self doubt or questioning voices. No room is made for critical art or journalism that can promote different points of view and expose mistakes.

Given a choice, we should opt to live in a bumbling democracy that makes frequent mistakes yet has the courage (enshrined in its institutions of plurality, professional journalism, and mass education) to confront and correct itself over time than be trapped in Plato’s sterile dystopian elitist city that has no practical chances at establishing long term durable justice. We should rather have our lives be based on difficult truths than on convenient lies; for it is better to be blinded by the sun than let Plato pull us down into his dark ideological cave of ignorance, subservience, and lies.

و كما قال الشاعر في أغنية "هنا القاهرة" لفنان المهرجانات الصاعد مصطفى عنبة:

أنا مجنون مجنون

بس عمري ما كنت زبون

فكك يلا من شغل الهمج

أنت وقعت مع إبن البلد

ابعد مالشمس احسن تتسلق

هنا القاهرة

لينك الأغنية https://youtu.be/2AFqG8xXSSg

لكن يحتسبله انه فتح الموضوع و استفذ التاريخ و بدأ سلسلة من الردود و الردود المضادة المستمرة الي وقتنا هذا

[clarenceupgraded39]

The Coming to Houston Experience by Clarence Empowerment Creates

This really awesome document!

I was born in Ashtabula, Ohio, on March 25th, 1984. From the beginning my life has been a challenge. My sister and I were put into foster care because our Mom and Dad weren’t able to take care of us. I am challenged with mental health issues today because of the choices my mother made. I have realized as an adult that my negative behavior as a child resulted from severe anger I had towards my real mother. I was not a pleasant child to my adopted mother because I was just so angry. 

I know God had a plan for my life. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t realize this until I became an adult. After continuously struggling to control my emotions and being a problem to my entire family, I was taken by my parents to Freedom Village, USA, in Lakemont, New York. This strict home for troubled teens was also a part of God’s master plan. I also did not see this while in the minimum one-year program; I ended up leaving and not completing the program, because I wasn't ready to allow God to do great things in my life.

As I've said before, God had a master plan. When I left Freedom Village, I was sent to Houston that Friday evening. I got here Sunday and was so out of it mentally. I called the Dean at that time in 2002 and I was not sure what to do, even though my parents had given me directions to my destination. I was to go to the men's shelter, the Salvation Army. I am so thankful that I made it there without coming in contact with cops. The reason I am saying this is that I remember as if it was yesterday. Before I made it to the Salvation Army, I found myself stealing a child's bike.

I was a very unstable 18-year old; I am 36 now. So, as the story goes and I speed things up a little, I ended up going to Covenant House. After being in and out of the program for about two years, starting my first job at Taco Bell, and taking my first attempt at the GED, I left this shelter for teens. Unfortunately, my future would be scarred forever when I started to shoplift from grocery stores, clothing stores, and even a computer store. After getting caught and put in jail, I quickly stopped this behavior which had given me two misdemeanors. A third would have led to a felony charge.

Long after Covenant House, I was introduced to a church filled with very kind people, initially by eating the meatball subs they brought from another part of town--from the rich part to the poor, homeless part. This was a really neat thing that was happening, and I was so affected I began to volunteer. This same church gave me a good paying job. It was part of God’s plan for my life. Before getting the janitor job at the church I was given an apartment. Even though I got the apartment, I was neglecting my mental health. I just kept refusing to do it. Only the important details follow this difficult memory. All my electronics were stolen from my apartment. The friend I was trying to assist let this happen by claiming the door had been left unlocked.

To help me gain mental health empowerment as I end this essay, I enjoy writing and developing my advocacy group called Recycling to Empower. Visit us on YouTube and Facebook. I hope this time I have shared telling my story will help and bless you!

[themovieblogonline]

Top Friday The 13th Movies To Watch on Friday The 13th

With a series of classic horror stories with a perfect blend of slasher and all that takes place in Crystal Lake, Friday The 13th series made its mark as one of the most consistent movies that were fully devoted to their respective genre. Sean. S Cunningham had a vision for developing terrifying storylines all while inducing fear in the hearts of watchers. Featuring the ultimate killer who could make everyone in the room shiver with his name empowered by his notorious reputation, Jason Voorhees still lingers in the back of our minds if we ever stumble in a dark alleyway. 12. Friday The 13th Part 3 To be fair Part 3 may deserve a higher ranking but what's holding it back is the disappointing and bizarre situations that successfully failed those who awaited the third movie of this franchise. Unlike the first two parts, this third installment had some very obvious flaws like a lack of originality and an eerie darkness which may have worked in its favor if the imagery was a little better. I'm still having a hard time dealing with Vera's death. It is unbelievable how slasher movies run on these nasty ideas but if discomfort crawls and makes its space somewhere, that is a big no!   11. Jason Takes Manhattan The lowest-ranked movie here might be based on subjective views but Jason Takes Manhattan is hated wholeheartedly by the entire fandom. One can easily feel the need to question the filmmaker's choice of film settings. Why even bother taking a murderer in a big city like New York when he has a whole spooky little town to himself that continuously haunts the spectators? You find yourself losing interest in the movie as the key elements are missing and are replaced by the pale portrayal of New York City that we can blame on the film's low budget.   10. Friday The 13th: A New Beginning  As the name suggests, this new part of the horror franchise simply took a whole new turn that shocked the audience. A New Beginning is the only movie in this saga that doesn't have Jason in it but that is not the reason it's rated poorly. His absence is only replaced by a plot that does justice to the fierce murder theme of Friday The 13th and an imposter disguised as Jason.   9. Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday  The same bloody tradition carried on in this new film but it chose to keep the least interesting elements in it. The worst part is once again the low budget of the film and a script that was partly risky but mostly predictable. What's likable though is the 80s horror elements like nausea-inducing creatures and slimy monsters who contribute to the overall theme and aesthetic of the series.   8. Friday The 13th Part 7: The New Blood Friday The 13th series typically went through a decent box office collection, however, The New Blood took off with an amazing success. The film is gripping as we are introduced to a young blonde who happens to be gifted with the supernatural ability of telekinesis. That gave an interesting turn to the plot but at the same time, other plot holes were quite perplexing. For instance, Jason being resurrected by this new character could've been portrayed in a better way. That resulted in its poor critic's score but hey, it still soared on the box office.   7. Jason X Who thought we would be getting to see our one true killer set out in space? We know it sounds pretty intriguing and raises our expectations with the concept's uniqueness, but it isn't even close to that. The constant experimental efforts that are put into this franchise mostly didn't work in its favor. What started as an attempt to create a bloody sci-fi only granted us a stupid attempt at a horror space movie.    6. Friday The 13th, Part 2 The second part of the series is where the filmmakers put the roots of the entire series by introducing the deadly psycho killer, Jason. Right after its release, it was obvious that Jason was about to stick around now that he had left the indelible impression left by our beloved villain. The movie overall is very well directed and the characters apart from Jason, killed it with their performances. The movie won't disappoint you as a sequel to an original classic.   5. Friday The 13th (2009) In 2009, a reboot of Friday The 13th was made that was worked upon by Marcus Nispel. Despite many disappointing sequels, this new take on the same gloomy settings and the dreadful killer Jason was a success. The movie not only made its mark on the box office but was surprisingly an enjoyable watch. The youthful spirit that was brought in the film by some silly teenagers who become memorable victims of Jason, was something that carried the movie. That was one reason the movie received positive reviews as compared to other movies of the same franchise.   4. Friday The 13th: The Final Chapter The Final Chapter innovatively deviated from the original theme of the movie which was about teenagers who are never immune to danger. Instead, it featured another family, a mother, and her young kids. Another striking twist in this movie is the introduction of Tommy Jarvis, who apart from Jason serves as a bold and important character. This movie brought such satisfaction as it features its classic creepy setting, The Jarvis House, once again diverging from the same old recipe of the former movies.   3. Freddy VS. Jason Another reboot that has some of the best ratings from the audience. Freddy VS. Jason is known to be one of those movies when the director knows what his audience wants. What better way to give off an awesome battle between two formidable and intimidating villains? The audience goes through a roller coaster when it witnesses both of them go from helping each other out to enemies who are coming for each other's throats. The plot kept fans hooked and it ended up receiving some really good ratings as well.   2. Jason Lives If anyone knows how to revive a dead series, it's Tom McLoughlin. The guy gave it all to this new installment and saved the franchise that was busy delivering one trashy teen murder story after another. The chilling tale follows Jason and Tommy. Tommy tries to escape his past where he murdered Jason and is now living his nightmare as Jason has somehow cheated death. The movie reminds us of the true spirit of this franchise and is, therefore, one of the best-made Friday The 13th movies.    1. Friday The 13th (1980) The original 80s horror undoubtedly revolutionized its genre and set the bar high for filmmakers to create something that is both timeless and unforgettable. Along with exquisite locations and characters, the film also paved the way for more slasher and horror movies like Scream that feature mystery murderers.   Overall This spooky season, all you need is a good slasher that will set you up for Halloween. If you enjoy this genre then Friday The 13th has the best and most relevant content for you. Hop on the ride and experience the quintessential tales of grim homicides.   Happy watching! Read the full article

[rsocancer]

Rick Simpson Oil (RSO) for Cancer: Does It Work?

Nobody might have anticipated that the rough drawings of Homer, Marge, Bart, Lisa and Maggie Simpson on the sketch satire program, "The Tracey Ullman Show" would turn into a colossally well known faction hit among watchers, all things considered, and foundations rso cancer. As the longest running enlivened arrangement throughout the entire existence of TV, it is additionally one of the most darling. "The Simpsons" scenes are normally themed around recent developments – even disputable subjects, for example, gay marriage and religion in government funded schools. There is nothing of the sort as no-no topic on "The Simpsons." Topics on the show are taken care of with humor that is equitably focused on all ages, races, sexual orientations and religions.

Maker and leader maker, Matt Groening is credited with taking the movement satire back to early evening TV with the presentation of "The Simpson's" arrangement on Fox in 1989. Chief maker James L. Streams is an Emmy and Academy grant winning essayist and maker of movies that incorporate Terms of Endearment and As Good as it Gets. Al Jean is the third chief maker and furthermore head author (Simpsons, 2006). As an intriguing little truth, staff essayist, Daniel Chun is the more youthful sibling of a kid this writer dated in secondary school. Al Jean and Mike Scully are additionally two essential scholars.

Notwithstanding the several superstar visitor stars who have voiced different vivid characters on the show, it is the voices of the principle characters that are indispensable and fundamental to the show's proceeded with progress. Most popular for relegating the very much coordinated "D'oh!" as Homer Simpson, Dan Castallaneta previous Tracey Ullman cast part, is additionally Mayor Quimby, Grandpa Simpson and Groundskeeper Willie among others. Additionally a Tracey Ullman alumna, Julie Kavner loans her voice to Marge Simpson and her two irritable Homer-despising, MacGyver fixated, chain smoking sisters Patty and Selma. Nancy Cartwright is the voice of long term old Bart Simpson, in addition to Ralph Wiggum, Nelson Muntz and Todd Flanders. Center youngster, long term old Lisa Simpson is depicted by Yeardley Smith. Both Hank Azaria and Harry Shearer give voices to many Springfield's essential characters (Simpsons, 2006).

In its right on time to mid-'90s brilliance days, "The Simpsons" was not just at the tallness of prevalence and evaluations, yet the show was rounding up several millions in authorized item deals. Crowds couldn't get enough rich Homers that slobbered "Mmmm… doughnuts" or battery worked Barts shouting "Affirmative carumba!" at the push of his paunch, in addition to video games, attire, home goods thus considerably more. Bart's expressions which included "Don't have a dairy animals man!" and "Eat my shorts" were heard all over. Alongside the appraisals, deals of Simpsons authorized things have declined as of late, however the essayists' and makers' endeavors to keep the show new and interesting have not gone unnoticed by numerous watchers who have stayed faithful to the occupants of Springfield, USA.

The way that the show is set in an obscure state demonstrates an exertion with respect to the authors to reflect American culture generally in every scene. This has empowered the show to draw watchers from everywhere the nation. For example, a show like "Sex and the City" may have a particularly enormous after of New York watchers, while "The Simpsons" with its unidentified setting can speak to all Americans. The two-story Simpson home on Evergreen Terrace intently takes after an ordinary home in an American suburb – less the bazaar like intense tones.

The show is based around the Simpson family unit model of two guardians, 2.5 youngsters (Maggie could be considered the .5 in view of her powerlessness to talk) in addition to felines, Snowball I, II and III and safeguarded greyhound, Santa's Little Helper. The family structure and character characters reflect conventional American standards. While the Simpsons are fairly broken, (as proven by one of the prior scenes where the family experienced stun treatment with Dr. Marvin Monroe to overcome their issues), eventually, we as a whole have issues, however by the day's end, there is a lot of adoration and solidarity in many families. This is obviously, in the event that you overlook the regular showcases of youngster misuse where Homer stifles Bart until his eyes swell off of his mind and the way that infant Maggie is by all accounts oftentimes ventured out from home alone.

Committed spouse and mother Marge is a recognition for dedicated American mothers. She is the heart, soul and paste of the Simpson family. In contrast to her significant other, Marge doesn't have any companions or time to be social as she is excessively bustling keeping an eye on her better half and children. Homer, who has a lot of washout companions, is the blundering nitwit of a spouse and father. What he needs keenness, he makes up in lager utilization at his #1 watering opening, Moe's Tavern. He isn't in every case totally gave to his family and is regularly childish and imprudent, yet at the end of most scenes, he makes the best choice – and that is the place we see the soul of the American dad.

Bart is the naughty, free energetic most seasoned youngster who staggers on inconvenience all over, in any case, similar to his dad, typically discovers reclamation and a daily existence exercise before the finish of a scene. Lisa is the absolutely real still, small voice of the Simpson family. A very much read, caring young lady who follows Buddhism and recent developments, Lisa can likewise chuckle with Bart at the particularly abhorrent scenes of the feline and mouse enemies, Itchy and Scratchy. Infant Maggie, while the littlest and calmest character, says a lot with the sucking of her pacifier. Scholars have consistently given Maggie an undeniable shrewdness and mindfulness that supplants her young age. She even has a uni-browed infant adversary.

Notwithstanding the Simpson family focal characters, the show highlights handfuls and many Springfield occupants with special biographies and important characters, all of which speak to the common characters the majority of us will experience in the course of our lives. For example, our nation is loaded with slanted legislators and Mayor Quimby speaks to a definitive shabby political figure. He is frequently trapped in bargaining positions selling out Springfield and horsing around with young ladies, yet he stays in power and nobody in the town appears to flutter an eyelash. When he even addresses the residents as "inept hicks" and they are not staged by it.

Jabbing fun of the police framework, The Simpsons highlights Police Chief Clancy Wiggum, maybe the second greatest bozo on the show close to Homer. He is responsible for Springfield's wellbeing and prosperity with his two side-kicks who outperform Wiggum in knowledge. His ineptitude is incredible and the town would be lucky to be gone over to fear monger barbarians with admittance to weapons of mass annihilation. Any police boss who says "Aww, wouldn't anybody be able to in this town go rogue?" may not be the top contender for the work (Simpsons, 2006).

The show additionally downplays the difficult issue of older disregard. Homer's dad, Grandpa Simpson, lives in the Springfield Retirement Castle. A resigned war saint, Grandpa was extremely hard on Homer in his childhood. As maybe a sort of subliminal retribution, Homer put Grandpa in a home where his personal satisfaction is poor. Unmistakably Grandpa and different inhabitants are dealt with gravely. His disregard is clear when in one example, Grandpa will not let Homer pick up the telephone so he can "relish the rings." Yet Grandpa shows up in numerous scenes as an energetic, intriguing character who loans his one of a kind, grouchy humor to the show. Maybe the authors are attempting to represent that numerous old actually have a lot to contribute and ought not be discarded as aggravations.

The late Phil Hartman of Saturday Night Live popularity loaned his voice to two cliché Simpsons characters: shabby legal advisor Lionel Hutz and enlightening film star, Troy McClure. Troy McClure would for the most part make his passageway by saying something like "Howdy, I'm Troy McClure! You may recall me from such open assistance recordings as 'Assigned Drivers, the Lifesaving Nerds' and 'Fake Tornado Alarms Reduce Readiness'" (Troymcclurepage, 2006). Troy was a distortion of a character a large number of us found in our childhood in maybe many state funded school films that once in a while held any instructive worth.

Legal advisor Lionel Hutz was a deceptive, rescue vehicle pursuing, entrepreneur who frequently out of nowhere showed up in a circumstance where his lawful "aptitude" may have helped him benefit some way or another. His lawful practice was named "I Can't Believe it's a Law Firm!" and offered customers motivators, for example, a free pizza if their settlements were not taken care of shortly or less (Lionel Hutz, 2006). Lionel's character hilariously exemplified the generalization of the avaricious, cash grubbing attorney.

Numerous American educators are not genuinely made up for the significant work they do. Edna Krabappel speaks to this thought as Bart's negative, come up short on, overlooked, overemphasized fourth grade instructor. Bart is the most despicable aspect of Edna's presence regularly, yet periodically the two foes agree. Janitors and support staff can likewise be disregarded for their work in keeping schools running easily. Groundkeeper Willie is the unruly Scotsman who is regularly ridiculed by the children of Springfield Elementary and given the most exceedingly awful, most disturbing undertakings comprehensible to do. They even keep him stayed in a little, smudged shack. He is treated as a below average person not deserving of better and Willie's sharpness is self-evident. School transport driver and occupant stoner, Otto, is answerable for the lives of the understudies at Springfield Elementary. He speaks to each parent's most noticeably awful bad dream.

Making jokes about the American clinical and protection framework, the essayists made Dr. Hibbert who likes to poke wrong fun at his patients in any event, when they are in a bad way. In a 2005 scene he tells Homer, "The insurance agency says you're just as they're going to pay for." This is constantly trailed by

[avelera]

HadesTown and POV

aka, Eurydice is actually the main character of HadesTown (or should be)

So I still have HadesTown meta very much on the brain right now, just tons of stuff about Hades vs. Orpheus and masculinity and all the visuals and tone of the story that comes from having the writer and director both be women, but there’s also one thing on my mind that’s a little more criticism. But first, a little context.

I went with my mother, and she struggled with the musical for a variety of reasons. Her criticism that stuck out to me was she called it, “all over the place” which I took to mean she had trouble following the story. Now, as a writer, I take that kind of criticism more seriously than I do content criticism ( “I don’t like the story because of xyz.” Well, maybe it’s just not for you.) So I’ve been thinking about it and I think I figured out the flaw in the structure she was referring to, and why it’s such a hard one for non-writers to articulate. 

HadesTown, at least onstage, struggles somewhat with “point of view”. Who is telling the story? Who is the main character? Whose eyes are we seeing this story through? 

Hermes is our narrator, but he tends to drop out on occasion to allow the drama to unfold without his filter. 

Orpheus is technically our protagonist, as he is in the original myth. He is the one with a mission and a goal that he tries (and fails) to accomplish by the end. However, there are long stretches of the narrative, especially at the beginning when the audience is being introduced to the story, where he’s absent or off in his own little world. This makes for fascinating meta about masculinity in storytelling, but does create some internal confusion for an audience member trying to pick out who this story is about.

This problem is exacerbated by the atmospheric and gorgeous choice to have most of the cast on stage all the time. Hades and Persephone are there from the beginning, genteelly looking down from the balcony to the proceedings. Orpheus is often off to the side of the stage while he composes and it’s several songs into the narrative before he is front and center. 

Then you have the fact that Orpheus/Eurydice and Hades/Persephone are being used as parallels for one another, and as a result they spread the story between them. The most confusing part of the setup of the story is when Orpheus plays his “unfinished” song to summon spring, and Persephone temporarily comes on stage. Now, this is quite a brilliant way to drag Hades and Persephone, as well as their story, into the narrative but I think if you’re not someone well versed in fantasy or myth, it may not be clear that Orpheus song is magical but because it was not yet finished, he couldn’t keep Persephone there for long.

The problem of portraying Orpheus as genuinely magical is compounded by the modern costume and set design. It’s gorgeous, but it doesn’t make it immediately clear that we’re in a fantasy setting where magic actually works, it takes a bit of mental gymnastics (especially difficult to pull off while trying to parse information from songs rather than spoken word) to realize this retelling’s use of Depression-era costume and set design is only meant to be evocative and creative, and does not signal that their story is being updated to a more “realistic” time without magic and therefore Orpheus’s musical magic is only metaphorical. His music’s power isn’t metaphorical, it’s real, but this clashes with his introduction as a poor boy working in some sort of shop or restaurant. 

But to go back to point of view (POV), this is a problem one sees with a lot of early writers, especially those with a fanfic background, and HadesTown is fanfic in the sense that it is derivative and heavily relies on knowledge of a separate story, (the tales of Orpheus & Eurydice and of Hades & Persephone) for the audience to immediately follow along and be invested. This problem is that because the author assumes you know this tale as well as she does, it doesn’t really need to be introduced on its own. That’s fine, until you begin introducing new elements, like the idea of Hades being the Boss Man of a modern Depression-era town and Persephone is his depressed, drunken wife, or the idea of Orpheus as a poor boy (and not the son of a mythological king) and Eurydice as a scrappy runaway. Those are new elements that muddle the original narrative and require more setup as a result. 

And then there’s Eurydice, who is much more fleshed out and brought center stage. I think it’s also clear that the female writer of the story had particular sympathy for her, but as with many writers, felt this character deserved more complicated motivationThe story has some amazing commentary on masculinity that I really want to get into in another essay, but it’s clear that it’s a female gaze story. Furthermore, Eurydice is transformed in HadesTown, at the very least to give her something to do and a reason for us to like her, because in the original she’s the quintessential damsel in distress and the fridged girlfriend all in one. She has no motivation besides, presumably, wanting to marry Orpheus and then wanting to be rescued by him when she’s killed on or just before her wedding day, but in HadesTown she becomes a heroine, if not the heroine of the story.

And here’s where I get to my one editorial tip for HadesTown, and why I think my mother wasn’t totally off base by saying it needed one more editing pass: Eurydice is the main character. The narrative voice clearly has sympathy for her, she goes on a journey to find food, she is the driving force behind much of the action, she is the one who brings change to Orpheus’s life and kicks off the narrative by asking him to sing his song. She is the one who acts, others react to her choices. 

But since the original myth focuses on Orpheus, it feels a bit like the narrator or writer felt compelled to have him as “the protagonist” when really, he is the traditional love interest. He’s fairly passive, even in going to rescue Eurydice he has to be prompted by Hermes and it’s Eurydice going to look for food which stirs him from his musical trance. Furthermore, even in the visuals for HadesTown, Eurydice is the one driving Orpheus forward, even during her own rescue when they’re ascending from the Underworld. 

However, we don’t really meet Eurydice until a few songs in and she is absent for long stretches on the stage. If the story had opened with her introduction superseding Orpheus, and made clearer that we’re seeing a reinvention of the story where Eurydice is the empowered one around whom events shift, I think we’d have a stronger, single narrative thread going through the story that through the haze of the music would be easier to follow. The building blocks are already there in the narrative, but the parallels with Hades/Persephone and the focus on Orpheus as a rescuer, albeit a fairly passive one, muddle the fact this is the story of Eurydice changing and influencing events and setting the action in motion. 

We can criticize audience members for not “getting” the story or for not keeping up, but authors should be wary when doing so. Trouble following a story is sometimes a lack of attention or genre savvy by an audience member, but it can also be indicative of a muddled narrative.

Point of View, who is transmitting the action of the story to us, how and when are they relating the story to us, and how do they filter the world around them, is an incredible and incredibly advanced tool in the writer’s toolbox. It’s often invisible to the audience and to even advanced readers, however. It takes a lot of attention to notice and it can be hard to articulate why it’s confusing when a strong POV isn’t there. 

Hamilton does not struggle with POV, we know when someone who isn’t Hamilton (usually Burr) is narrating because he takes center stage. Les Miserables has a huge ensemble cast, but we never question who the current song or scene is about, it’s usually Marius, Valjean, or Cosette and they take center stage when they give their view of the story. Phantom of the Opera has a somewhat more removed “once upon a time” ensemble POV because it takes place on a stage, but most of the time we’re seeing events from Christine or Raoul’s POV and they are center stage and loud as they observe events. The switch to the Phantom’s POV at the end of All I Ask Of You is jarring and shocking on purpose as a result, but again he takes center stage when he comments on the events he just witnessed. 

By crowding the stage and having so many POV characters witnessing and commenting on events at once, from the Fates, to Hermes, to Orpheus, to Eurydice, to Hades and Persephone, it becomes hard for an uninitiated audience member to know whose story this is and who they should be following and who will have the classic story structure of rising and falling action to build their expectations around. 

Ensemble pieces can be well done, and HadesTown is very well done, but for the non-genre savvy audience members, it may have been helpful to pick a single character and put them front and center in every action, and when they’re not front and center because of story circumstances, to have it clearly someone else who is front and center, with no one else with POV cluttering the stage at the same time. I vote that this person should be Eurydice, elevated to main protagonist, with Orpheus as secondary/love interest who only takes center stage when she is captive and first taken away, and that Hades/Persephone also get center stage in more isolation so it’s clear they’re commentary and parallels to Eurydice and her lover, not a second set of main characters. 

[writingsilly]

Underwater (ch. II)

Description: Your bad behaviour led you to stay the whole summer in your town of birth with your grandfather. The very first day, you went for a walk to the beach and had an encounter with a stranger that would change your whole life.

Pairing: Reader x Merman!Taehyung.

Genre: Angst, suspense, sci-fi.

Trigger warnings (!!!): Blood, swearing, angst.

Click here to read in AO3!

II: A New Friend

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Since you had been a little kid, whatever the problem was, your grandmother would be there for you. It was a known fact that a pair of scratched knees would only get better with your grandmother’s biscuits and one of her old fairy tales. When she passed away, your grandfather took care of that important role, but in his own way. Soon enough, getting hurt wasn’t such a big deal. The scratches were quickly dusted off and disinfected, and the fairy tales shoved deep on the bookshelf.

Moving to the city had been a big adjustment. Even when you had tried to stay strong and tell yourself that it wasn’t such a big deal, it finally hit you; you were alone. Your father was all the time at work. You had to put an end to your pity party, and grow up faster than you had expected.

This was the closest you had been to the person who taught you to stand up for yourself in three years, and there you were, laying on the floor, basically begging for mercy. You felt weak, fragile, just like how you had felt when you lost your grandmother.

“Are you listening to me?”

Right now, you had to be clever.

“Yes, I’m listening to you,” you muttered gritting your teeth.

You could not see him, he had was beneath the dock, but you were oh, so sure that he was enjoying every second where you were basically at his feet. You quickly learned that his guy enjoyed being empowered.

“Good,” he said. “I require you in order to fulfil a task I have been assigned by a figure of importance.”

“Who would that be?”

There was a pause. You could not hear him moving underneath the dock anymore. For a few seconds, you feared that somehow, he had managed to silently swim to the shore. But then he spoke again.

“Someone more powerful than you think.”

His imprecise answer was not surprising. For all you knew, this Kim Taehyung could be not on his right mind. He had hurt you, and now he was talking about some “figure of importance” that you were absolutely sure it did not exist whatsoever. The fact that he was this late at night at the beach was a red flag… But then again, you were also there with him.

“What if I don’t help you?”

“You think you have a choice?” He rhetorically asked with a chuckle threatening to burst out of his lips. “Cute…”

He had said enough for you to make up your mind. He was not going to let you go anytime soon. You were not going to wait for the perfect moment to escape, you were doing it right now.

You stretched your arms over your head and placed your hands on the wooden planks.

“What happens if I refuse?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as neutral as possible, and pushed your body back on the dock with a slow, torturous pace.

As you moved your body, your t-shirt rolled up and splinters started to pierce your body. You could feel them break the skin of your abdominal area, but you bit your lip to silence any kind of sound that could disturb your runaway. You were sure that both your legs were full of splinters as well, but you decided against looking at them to check, it would only make it worse.

“Do as you please,” Taehyung sighed, bored. “I can always find another one of you, but since you were already here, I figured that you would have to do.”

The way he talked, as if you weren’t nothing but a piece of garbage, made your blood boil. You felt the need to tell him off, but you had to restrain yourself. You focused on your escape.

“If you refuse, though,” he continued, and you couldn’t help but stop moving, breathing. “Nor you or your grandfather will survive.”

The mention of your grandfather was what did the trick. You didn’t know how Taehyung knew him, but in a town as small as this, you could just assume that Taehyung had met him in the store, or anywhere, really.

Suddenly, the idea of escaping did not seem the brightest one.

“How do you-”

“Know him?” He completed your question. “This is a little town. Everybody knows that ancient man that takes short walks on the dock every morning. So, if you want him to be safe, stop your poor attempt to escape and help me.”

Your hands left the wooden planks and you hissed at how they looked. The palms were scratched raw with sand sticking to the fresh wounds, and the tip of your fingers had gotten splinters. Just looking at them was enough to make you shiver.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

A chuckle was heard from beneath.

“That’s what you get, dumb girl.”

The frustration was starting to catch up with you. You were scared that you might finally snap at him and say something that would trigger a bad reaction from him. There was a situation of power from his perspective. He knew he had control over you, and, according to him, he was not afraid to use whatever he had against you to get his way.

There was nothing you could do but listen to him.

“What do you need me for?” You finally asked.

You heard him moving in the water, like playing with it. You rolled on your back, trying to get your breathing steady, but your hurried pants would not stop leaving your lips no matter how much you tried.

“Tomorrow I’ll be visiting you and telling you exactly what you have to do,” Taehyung suddenly informed you.

You huffed. The idea was not enticing, none of this situation was, being honest, but Taehyung getting near to your grandfather when he had threatened him just a few minutes ago? No. It was not going to happen.

“You’re not getting anywhere near my grandfather.”

He chuckled.

“Fine. Let’s meet here tomorrow, same hour. And don’t even think about telling anyone about this.”

A splash of water echoed in the night, startling you so much that you almost fell in the water. You sighed with your hand over your chest. You felt your heartbeat against it and the way the fabric of your shirt rubbed painfully against your sores. Your heavy breathing was the only thing that you could hear after that. It was like Taehyung had vanished altogether.

“How am I going to find you?” You asked staring at the night sky, too afraid to even check if he was still there. “Hello?”

When no one answered, you rolled over your stomach and dragged your body to the hole where your foot had been stuck in. You looked through it; Taehyung had left, leaving no trace. You allowed yourself to lay on your back. The tightness on your chest was gone. Air was finally entering your lungs with no difficulty. With Taehyung present, you couldn’t let yourself cry, no matter how scared you were. Now, warm tears flowed down your cheeks silently like a river.

You sat down and looked down to your legs. Your left foot and your ankle were still bleeding, and since you tried to escape by dragging your body on the splintered dock, your knees were hurt as well. The only way to stop the bleeding was to apply pressure to the wound, but just before you reached it, you remembered Taehyung’s warning. You had to figure something else. Your hands travelled to shirt. You recalled having seen somewhere that a piece of cloth could be used as a bandage if tied tight enough, so you decided to take it off and tie it around your foot and ankle. Once your shirt was off, you displayed it over the wooden planks. When you lifted your leg by your thigh, a sharp pain struck you. The sensation on it had come back, you recognised a little glad.

Every step was torture. It was like stepping on shattered glass. And to top it all, the temperature had dropped significantly, which did not help at all, given the fact that you were lumping around wearing just a pair of shorts and your bra. You could not hug yourself to shield your uncovered body from the cold wind since it was already hard enough to maintain your balance.

You chose to walk over the dirt because it was gentler on your wounded legs than the pavement. Just stepping on a hard surface made your whole leg ache.

You couldn’t shake off the feeling of Taehyung’s eyes on you. You had made sure to look back, to ensure your safety. He was not following you, no one was, but you still felt like someone was watching your every move. The dark of the night came in handy if you needed to hide, and you knew you sounded paranoid, but it was better to be prepared than sorry.

After what it felt like hours of walking, you spotted the vague silhouette of your grandfather’s house, slightly outlined by the last strand of moonlight that the night could offer. You were glad to see the lights out inside, that meant he was asleep like you had assumed.

At the sight of the house, you felt a wave of relief run through your body. You quickened your pace, even if it hurt, and got to the white wooden door. Once you were in, you let your whole body hit the floor.

You were finally home.

It took some time for you to pluck up the courage to untie the improvised bandages. It was dumb, you knew that, but somehow, under the buzzing kitchen lights, you had taken in the whole situation you were stuck in; a stranger, someone who was not hesitant about hurting you, had threatened you and your grandfather. And now, you had to lick your wounds like a damned hurt cat. You did not like the way it made you feel.

It had been a long time since you last needed someone to take care of you, and just now you recognised that today you might need help from someone that was not yourself. You did not want to admit that.

You had sat down on the chair and rested your leg on another one in front of you. You untied the knot and started to untangle the cloth around your ankle. When you got to the layer that was in direct contact with your wound, you stopped altogether, letting the cloth hang on one side of the chair.

Your hands were shaking, so were your knees. You were actually scared of what it could be there, even when you had seen how bad it was. You closed your eyes, as if that would help in any way, and continued to take off the poorly tied fabric. It was like ripping off a band-aid. The blood had started to dry, you recognised, as you felt how sticky the material of your t-shirt was. Once it was completely off, you opened your eyes again to take a proper look to the wound.

There was nothing.

The fresh and open-cut you could vividly remember were not there.

“What the hell?” You murmured.

Hesitant at first, you still touched your ankle. It did not hurt anymore.

The cut made by Taehyung was not there, but the splinters and scratches that you had got while trying to escape were all there, waiting to be taken care of. But you were too dazed to even think about curing your wounds.

The feeling of claws cutting your skin open was still present on your memory, on your body, even. The burning trace that they left behind and the striking pain on your leg whenever you stepped too hard on the ground. You had seen the blood. Taehyung had practically admitted that he had done that to you. There was no way you could have just imagined all that…

But what if there was?

The brain was powerful, you knew that, and under certain circumstances, it can be possible to imagine things that were not really there. Could it be that you had felt so endangered that you simply hallucinated? There was no other explanation if you thought about it. The facts were those; no wound, and you had been under a stressful situation.

You checked your dirty t-shirt. There was no trace of blood, just mud and green stains that came from walking over grass.

What if Taehyung had been another product of your disturbed imagination?

It made sense to question his existence. It made sense to question the whole night since you had woken up in the dock. You were even thinking that you might be still asleep on that dock. This could be a simple nightmare, a really intense nightmare you could not run away from.

You pinched yourself just to prove your theory, and of course, you did not wake up in the dock. This was not a dream. This was happening, and you had to find a way to deal with it, suck it up like you had always done.

Even after a long shower, you still felt dirty. The image of Taehyung’s green eyes would not leave your mind no matter how much you turned around in your bed. It was always present, hunting you, just like the feeling of his hands slashing your skin, and the way his low voice would make your breathing stop altogether. You could not stop grazing your fingers over your ankle, still finding surprising the fact that you were not injured anymore.

But the worst thing that came off of that encounter was lying to your grandfather.

You were already in the kitchen when he woke up at around 11 a.m., eager to make you breakfast again. He said something about his pancakes having improved along the years while you were not there, but you could not quite catch that. The glass of water in front of you seemed way more interesting than any kind of human interaction. You vaguely wondered if you broke it into pieces and cut your skin, you would feel it.

Of course, you would not do that in a million years, but the thought was still there, lingering in your mind.

“A watched pot never boils,” your grandfather commented while sitting down on the chair opposite to yours.

“It’s a glass of water,” you replied not moving your gaze away from it.

“It’s an expression, dummy.”

Dummy. Dumb. Dumb girl.

That made you snap out of your trance.

“Can I ask you a question?” You suddenly said. He nodded. “Do you have any friends around here?”

He knotted his eyebrows. You knew he had not asked himself that question in a long time, if ever. But Taehyung had said that everyone knew him, and if you wanted to get to the bottom of this, you had to get your facts straight.

“Well, the neighbours are nice, but I wouldn’t call them friends. Why?”

“But, you talk to them, right? Like, on a daily basis?” You asked again, a little bit more urgent.

Your grandfather was somehow taken aback by your unexpected curiosity, but he answered anyway.

“I guess so, honey. In a town so small, we all tend to talk to each other sooner or later.”

That was what you were afraid of. Taehyung, at this point you were sure he had not in fact been a hallucination, did know your grandfather. It was nearly impossible to live here and not know him. Taehyung was not lying. The threat was real, which meant that you had to go see him tonight.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes- well, no. I guess it’s hard to get used to sleeping in a different bed. I didn’t sleep too well last night,” you lied.

And you were a better liar than this, you knew that, but Taehyung had accomplished what you assumed it was his objective; scare the hell out of you. But the most terrifying part of this was not him, it was the uncertainty. You did not know what he could be capable of, to what extents he was willing to go if you did not help him with whatever he needed you for.

You had already established that you needed help, but getting your grandfather in the middle of this surely did not seem like the correct answer.

Besides, Taehyung had specifically told you not to say anything about your encounter. But he did not say anything about you making some research on him. You had to find out just how dangerous that guy actually was.

“Do you- do you know anyone that’s my age?”

Apparently, there was a whole group of people that were around your age. However, they were difficult to find. According to your grandfather, he had talked with his neighbours about these three guys that would yearly pop up during the summer to visit their grandparents. People here were visited so rarely by their relatives that whenever it happened, it was the talk of the town. Everybody knew about them. They even jokingly called them “the golden grandchildren”, which was weird, but somehow funny to your grandfather.

“Maybe after this visit, I can start calling you that, too?” He politely teased you.

It hurt, you could not deny that. The years you spent far away from here, not even bothering to call because you were convinced that the only thing it was going to bring was pain to your heart were difficult for you, but you had never stopped to think that they might have been even harder for your grandfather. He was the one living in the middle of the memories that your grandmother had left behind.

He was not even shoving it in your face, it was more like happiness that radiated from him. He was happy to have you here, it showed.

“I would like that,” you smiled at him.

It was not an official promise, but you would have loved it if he would understand that you were more than adamant to keep it.

“Anyways, I might know of some places that they visit a lot. If you want to find them, you might as well go there.”

The summer sun was burning on the skin of your shoulders just minutes after you had left the house. The cap you had on, and the sunscreen you had applied on every inch you could reach were not enough to protect you from the strong heat of the outside world.

Sure, your grandfather’s shitty ceiling fan was not what you would define as useful when the temperature was this high, but it was better than walking under the sun for twenty minutes just to reach the centre of this little town. There was no wind, and if you had the luck to be outside when that summer breeze made its presence, you might as well find shelter. Poems about summer loves, and the breeze that came with it were nice, but they did not even start to describe how dry and hot the wind in this season actually was.

Fuck this weather, honestly.

After taking off your cap, and trying to fan some air into your sweaty face, you were tempted to throw it on the ground, and step on it. There was no use. You were only making piping hot air fly to your face at a higher velocity.

At this point, you were dragging your feet on the pavement. People who were crazy enough to be outside on a day like this, like you were, gave you funny looks. There could be a number of reasons on why they were so curious about you; one, your legs were covered in bruises and scratches, and so were your arms and hands. Two, you were practically melting all over the ground. And three, they did not recognise you at all from years back.

When someone new appeared in town, it was a big deal, it seemed. You had caught people, mostly old ladies drinking some lemonade outside one of the few cafeterias around here, staring intently at you and then whispering to each other, which was followed by all of them shrugging, totally puzzled. And of course, you did not appreciate the attention that was being given to you, but it was better to get used to it rather than trying to fight it.

You had written down the places where the “golden grandchildren” might be. After seeing them on a piece of paper, on under the other, you realised how much you had underestimated this little town. Actually, there were more than just two or three places you had to visit in order to maybe find them. One of them, of course, was the beach.

You had to hold back a chuckle.

There was no way you were going to go there. At least not earlier than you had planned (or earlier than Taehyung had told you).

You huffed.

Now you were relying on his “schedule”? What a fucking joke.

The heat proved to be stronger than your determination, and soon enough you had sat down inside an ice-cream shop with the little map your grandfather had given you displayed over the wooden table while you tried to cool down by shoving spoonful after spoonful of cookie dough flavoured ice-cream. With the little list on one side, you started to circle the places you wanted to visit, the farthest away being the beach, and the closest, this ice-cream shop, ironically enough.

You gave a quick glance to the shop. It was practically empty, just two employers behind the counter and you enjoying the air-conditioning.

Once you finished your ice-cream and marking the spots on the map, you headed to the next location; an old book shop right in the corner of the street. You saw a sign sticking out from the brick wall of the building. It read: “Silver Pages” in a fancy font, big and white, in the middle of the wooden sign.

Hesitantly at first, you put your hand on the doorknob. At that right moment, the door opened, a cheerful tinkle greeted you, and so did the floor of the store. You almost fell flat on your face since you had not seen the step that was in front of the door.

“Oh, dear! You scared me!” A croaky voice said.

The owner of the voice was a small, white-haired, elderly lady. The sun reflected on her big glasses, preventing you from taking a look to her eyes. It did not matter that she almost made your face flat like a pancake, there was something about her appearance, a mellow one, that made you feel comfortable instantly.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” She asked with a smile on her face.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. I’m looking for some boys, maybe you know them?”

Right when you finished that question, you realised something crucial; you did not know how these guys were like. You did not have any names or physical features to identify them. How were you going to find them?

“The golden grandchildren?”

Wow, it sounded even dumber coming from your mouth.

But the lady’s face seemed to light up when she heard this.

“Of course I know them!” She exclaimed, delighted, and took a step back to let you in, you thanked her and walked in.

The bookstore was homey, yet small. The peach coloured walls made you feel as if you were in the middle of autumn, even though it was like a million degrees outside. There was a mahogany counter with way too many candles in one extreme of the shop, and bookshelves made of the same wood as the counter, full of books that seemed older than this town. And the very end of the room, there was a yellow beaded curtain. You supposed that behind it there was the entrance to the woman’s house.

You would have thought that around these ancient books and dusty furniture, the bookstore would smell, well, old, but you were mistaken. There was a soft aroma of lavender in the air. It was nice. No wonder these guys spent most of their time here.

“Joonie!” The lady’s voice made you jump on your place. “Someone’s looking for you!”

Dear Lord, that woman had some powerful lungs…

“Coming!” A male’s voice was heard from somewhere upstairs.

You frowned at her, but she only smiled at you and held one finger on your face.

“He will be right down, dear,” she whispered after sitting down on a chair behind the counter.

It just hit you. What the hell were you going to say to him? He did not know you! Nobody in this town did, except for your grandfather, of course.

Were you just going to blurt it out? ‘Hey, I need to do some background research on this guy that after today I thought it was a hallucination. Do you know him by any chance?’

You were definitely going to get kicked out of this lovely book-store.

You heard hurried steps getting near, and then the beaded curtain finally announcing the guy’s appearance.

Your grandfather was right. This guy was your age, maybe even older than you by two or three years. He was tall, well-proportioned body from what you could see, and his dark eyes matched his brown hair. And yeah, you had put two and two together, so you knew that he was the grandchild of the owner of this store, but the resemblance was still incredible; both had plump pink lips and a small round nose.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” he talked, puzzled.

And they had the same low, raspy voice…

“No, I’m kinda new around here,” you replied clutching into your insignificant map.

The guy hummed, eyeing at the piece of paper in your hand. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked.

He sounded unsure, of course he did. A stranger had literally tracked him down, with no apparent reason.

“I…”

“We need some fresh lemonade!” The old lady peeped out of nowhere and rushed behind the beaded curtain.

She seriously needed to stop scaring the hell out of you.

“Look,” you sighed, “I know you don’t know me, and I don’t know you either, but I need your help.”

It seemed like you were going to improvise. Not clever, but okay…

He leant his head, inviting you to explain yourself a little further.

“I met someone last night. I need you to tell me what you know about him.”

“Okay, why?” He asked chuckling with a confused look on his face.

“Does it matter?” You replied a little frustrated.

“Yeah, it kinda does.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t even know my name and you’re asking me a favour.”

“You’re Joonie?” You tried to smile, but he was not having it, which, unfortunately for you, was understandable.

“Namjoon,” he corrected. “Now, are you telling me why you want information about this guy, or not?”

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White Disney Princess Problem: How Discussion of Historical Sexism in Europe is Avoided When They Had Every Opportunity to Portray it

And Also Acceptance into European Royalty is the Path to True Liberation?

Warning: Loooong Post (seriously, I’m not kidding), Disney Criticism, anti-T*angled, swearing, dissecting Disney princess movies, discussing the implications of classism and sexism in white princess films. I will be noting historical incidents of sexism in Europe, and how these instances are mysteriously absent in white princess films despite sexism playing a major role in portraying princesses of color’s culture. 

Tl;dr/Summary: White Disney Princess Films have a reoccurring theme of showing how being part of white European royalty is the true path to liberation, even though historically this is a completely laughable concept. Sexism faced by princesses of color are portrayed as being ingrained in their culture and the films are explicit pointing their fingers.

Unlike their princess of color counterparts, the limited amount of sexism white princesses face is often whitewashed, downplayed, or even considered empowering.

This creates an implication that white European royalty and White European society is inherently more liberating for women, fairer than nonwhite cultures, and more humane. But in reality European royals were often notoriously sexist, and often violently so. Portraying white European royal culture as being inherently more freeing is historically inaccurate and irresponsible.

Also, I’m a picky little shit who delves into a lot of historical sexism that should be in the white princess films since Disney is soooo concerned about sexism enough to point it out in their princess of color films, but are mysteriously absent in their white European ones. 

Important Note: 

No, I don’t hate these films, I love many disney princess movies. 

And no, I don’t hate the fact that these girls have simple wishes. 

I don’t care if a character wants to go see the human world, or make a pretty dress, or paint or see lanterns or whatever. That’s FINE. 

What I hate is that they make a huge stink about how this or that nonwhite culture mistreats women, or how it’s unfair, but they never do the same for white Europeans. They always portray white europeans as nicer, kinder, etc. and find a convenient excuse to ignore/gloss over/whitewash the violent sexism present in european history. That is my ultimate problem. The double standard. 

The Double Standard 

I find it very interesting how in portraying Disney princesses of color, that the tend to portray sexism and social inequality as something that is naturally ingrained in their society. Mulan and Jasmine come into mind for this, as their social structures are considered unfair and undermine their character arcs. The sexism they face is something to overcome and to prove themselves.

But with white Disney princesses, despite coming from Europe (which is often violently patriarchal and demanding of compliance of social expectations of gender—think Henry the VIII’s infamous desire for a male heir, the influence of the Church, popular portrayals of the Madonna with the Virgin/Whore dichotomy) they all tend to either not face sexism or dismiss the notion outright in their films.

It’s important to note that earlier white Disney princesses (like Cinderella, Snow White, Aurora) tend to be portrayals of idealized femininity. They were designed to be what is considered appealing to patriarchal standards. Highly feminine, domestic, and at times passive.

Obviously, their stories wouldn’t tackle sexism. The sexism is what what was considered appealing for white men. It was their idealized femininity, and this trend actually still continues today. 

But these princesses legacy lives on. They affect white Renaissance Disney princesses and beyond. They have set the standards of what is considered “appropriate” for white princesses to be. 

This infection has spread a great deal to how they marketed especially. Sparkles, glitter, princess outfits at all times. But this post is about their movies, and how white princess films have often sidestepped the issue of sexism in European royal society.

Belle

Yes, there is sexism in this movie. Yes, it portrayed as being bad. But when we look at context of the film, there is a noticeable ahistorical approach to class and expectations of gender in royal society.

The lower class is filled with expectations for Belle. She needs to marry in order to fit in. The opening song is demonstrative of what she doesn’t want to be: a woman who is ogled by men and forced to have as many children as possible. The village, without a “proper” royal hierarchy, makes their own by “electing” Gaston, a boorish sexist pig. In a way, they are considered worse off without the influence of a King or Queen.

The village in question is isolated, and are not considered a representative of the outside world. It’s an individual case, and it’s upsetting but not considered the norm. 

The royals are what REAL freedom is, apparently. Where Belle has access to books, has a palace full of people who accept her for who she is, and has a connection to a prince who has been cursed. She is free to do as she pleases, with the Beast encouraging her love for reading.  

EDIT (08/12/19): 

Hm, I should really revise this wording, as it is a little vague. One of the key elements in understanding this movie’s themes is that Belle is initially Beasts’ prisoner. 

There is no freedom until AFTER she changes him and he has the maturity to let her go (Though I believe she is ignorant of the rose being a ticking clock). But once she gets it, she is apparently “free” to do as she pleases.  

Initially, it’s kind of like going from one prison (social expectations) to another (which is a literal one). But when regarding the narrative, it all places emphasis on individual choices. White European stories told by Disney tend to judge characters based on their choices and they never judge the culture itself, just choices people make. 

While placing emphasis on individual choices is fine in a vaccum, they never do this for nonwhite cultures, particularly Renaissance disney films with nonwhite leads. Those films tend to rely on racial stereotypes to fill the cast and not give them as much understanding as their white counterparts. 

The only reason the palace is in ruins is because the prince decided to judge people based on their looks. It turns not only himself, but his servants and the rest of the castle into twisted versions of themselves. The town fawns over Gaston and glorify his actions despite being an asshole, but it’s not something that is consistent with French culture. 

It’s important to note though, that once the monarchy is reinstated, things end happily ever after. But if people really want to claim historical accuracy, the expectations from Belle wouldn’t end there. 

(end note)

Sure, she would have access to books theoretically. But as a princess/queen, Belle would be expected to perform more feminine tasks and birth male heirs to inherit the throne. It’s in the culture of royals to do this. These expectations don’t go away.  

Most European royalty, especially France, have been notorious during this time period (assuming it’s Pre-Revolutionary France) for its nobility being separated from the general public at large. Royals had their own culture and etiquette. Royalty often had a culture that was exclusively for themselves. One historical account had King Louis XIV relocating their court and government to Versailles because they didn’t want to be near all the poor people in Paris. 

Which is probably where the creators of Beauty and the Beast (Disney film) based the idea of the village being separated from the palace came from.

Nobility also had strict ideas of what men and women’s roles are. In fact, you could argue that the idea that Belle would be “free” as a princess would be a laughable concept. Like it has been established earlier, European royalty had their own set of rules and restrictions based on gender and social expectations. 

Merida

It’s funny how the inherently sexist practices of royalty are suddenly something to be proud of and find power in it when it’s European, and hated when it’s from a nonwhite culture. 

In Brave, domesticity and performance of femininity are emphasized, much to Merida’s irritation, so it’s definitely truer to upper class customs than say, Beauty and the Beast.

Plausible Deniability aka “what sexism? I see no sexism!” 

However, this movie dances around the concept that sexism has anything to do with this by creating plausible deniability at every turn. It’s about Elanor and Merida, not the system that binds them. It doesn’t help that Eleanor is the one who enforces these rules on Merida, not to protect her from harm coming from the men in these social circles that would hurt her for not performing femininity, but because “it’s tradition.”

Merida laments that her brothers don’t have the same responsibilities as her, but of course they don’t. They’re like, five. She hates having to be a princess because it’s work, but of course? She’s a princess. 

It becomes a matter of her not wanting to do work and chalking it up to her being rebellious rather than a genuine effort to change anything about the social structure. It’s a generational difference that requires compromise, not upheaval. 

She doesn’t want to lose her freedom, but it’s portrayed as something she has to do to grow up. The obligations make her sad but she has to ultimately deal with it, reasserting the theme of “compromise” with her relationship with her mother and the clans. In the end, it’s about her and her mother, not about how this system treats women at all. She doesn’t put any responsibility for this system on her father (who would reinforce these rules because he is the KING) because she gets along with him more than her mother. 

That’s the problem with white princess films in general. They take problems that exist because of systemic and economic limitations and make it completely individualistic.  It’s important to note that Brave appears to be tackling sexism, but it never actually addresses it in a genuine way.

Lesson for Battling Systemic Sexism in Brave: Don’t Change the System, Change the Person!

Merida’s desire for change is based on her mother’s demands, and doesn’t tackle the social expectations themselves straight on. The men around Merida, who MADE and uphold these rules, aren’t considered a threat and are pretty much never held accountable. They are too bumbling, too endearing, and too funny to be called out on their expectations.  

The movies like, “oh yeah, this social structure is hindering and it’s sexist and whatever, blah, blah, blah but eVeryONE wants to follow their own path, not just Merida!!1” Her potential suitors don’t want to do this either. It’s totally not a sexism issue!!11

Even though historically, you’d have at least ONE suitor that didn’t care whether she wanted to or not, as it would be a power grab. But because they are so bumbling, they are almost all benign. The ending in itself is convenient as it allows Merida and Elanor to reconnect. But it doesn’t really change anything. Because it doesn’t want to. That wasn’t the point.

White Princesses: For Me, Myself, and I

Belle didn’t want to change how women were viewed, just her specific circumstances. Her plight is portrayed as systemic, but only in this one area that’s gone rogue. The world outside is more accepting, more free, and it’s in the confines of a royal castle. On a meta level, it’s kinda classist. I love the movie, don’t get me wrong, but on rewatch it seems to equate a lack of a monarchy ultimately leading into a mob mentality. Which, for France, makes sense. But when you have servants who just live to serve (no matter how vibrant their personality), I kind of get suspicious. 

Ariel didn’t want to change how mermaids interacted with humans, she just wanted to go up and see the human world. The benefits of her turning her into a human (freeing Ursula’s victims) is a happy accident that lines up with her ending.

Merida just wanted to be free to do whatever she wanted, which is considered selfish. She is a princess, and being a princess is hard work (when you want to make sure your character finds power in sexist practices). 

And to be honest, it’s fine to have a simple goal. Reconnect with your mother, make a pretty dress, see the lanterns, whatever. But the problem is the double standard when they go into films about people of color. They point out how sexist this non white culture is, how they mistreat women, but they never do the same for white princesses at all. These filmmakers always have some sort of excuse. 

Ariel

Ariel’s story is indivualistic and while there are hints of her being unsatisfied with her role as a princess (with her line “bright young women, sick of swimming”), it’s more about her personal journey to be human. She’s not dissatisfied because of her society because of sexist/prejudice expectations, but because she wants to explore. 

Once again, the world in which a white Disney princess goes into/winds up in a world of European royalty are considered a bastion of freedom. In the original tale, the prince is not idealized and she is miserable on the surface world when it turns out that all her sacrifice was for nothing. 

I’ve had people argue that Triton’s prejudice (which is often mislabeled as “racism,” which….no it’s not) is a social problem, it really doesn’t play much of a role rather than provide an opposition to overcome on the path to being human.

Even if Triton was fine with humans and let her explore the human world, it wouldn’t be enough. She’d still want to be human, just maybe not going to such extreme lengths. When Ursula is defeated, others are freed from her curse, but that’s an unintentional side effect of Ariel’s journey, not the goal. Sure, she’s disgusted, but she’s not out to right any wrongs. It’s just her. Like most white princesses, this is about herself. 

Elsa and Anna

Why is it that suddenly we have a powerful matriarchy when Europe has historically violently opposed the concept? You’d think that they would mention the sexism of royal European politics since she is the queen. 

I have looked it up, and the only way she could assess power is if she had a son to inherit the throne and then act as Queen regent until he inherited it (as was the case of Queen Margaret of Denmark in 1387, who ruled Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. Though she outlived her son and her successor was a relative after her death. Considering that this story presumably takes place in the early 1800s, that is a huge time difference and the politics of European royalty would be drastically different). 

No Male Heirs?

In earlier storyboards, we have suitors for Elsa that she rejects. We also had a regent who took the throne for Elsa after her parents died before she was coronated. But that character was deleted. So it’s safe to assume that she is not only being coronated, but also has absolute power.

Elsa is pretty much universally loved by her people and doesn’t have any real serious opposition to her rule politically. The Duke of Weasleton is a joke, and he is more concerned about his trade being compromised rather than her being a woman. 

Please correct me if I’m wrong, but other than calling her a witch, his sexism isn’t as explicit as it should be and isn’t taken very seriously. His character is more defined by his dislike of magic, and is portrayed as suspicious, arrogant and cowardly. 

In the end, it all came down to trade and goods. If Arandelle’s goods were damaged or expired from the winter, it might cause their prices to go up.But in reality, it’d just be easier for the Duke to look for a male relative of Elsa to usurp her and form some sort of alliance with him. And more historically accurate.

Hans, Kristoff and the Marriage Situation

Anna has the freedom to marry a commoner (Kristoff), a prince she was not previously engaged to (Hans), and she has the power to grant Hans authority. The mere fact that she was even allowed to be alone with him is cause for concern, as many upper class women had to have a chaperone when courting before they could even go walking together. 

She isn’t pressured to marry Hans, she does it because she wants to. She just chooses him at a party. Surely she’d have an arranged marriage, or something? 

Rapunzel

Obviously, because Ra//punzel is not raised to be a princess she would probably not be held to the same standards until she returned home. And I’m not gonna touch the animated series because it’s so far removed from the movie it shouldn’t be considered canonical.

But still, Tangl//ed the movie continues the trend of how being part of European royalty is pathway to freedom. She is only free when she is away from Mother Gothel (who is poor) and with her birth parents (who are rich).

Sexist Insults from Mother Gothel, But No One Else

She doesn’t encounter any sort of sexism in her society. It’s really interesting to note that these feminine expectations and sexist insults are put on her more by Mother Gothel than the village she encounters. But that’s more because Mother Gothel is trying to destroy her sense of self worth (by calling her chubby, encouraging long hair to preserve her own youth, etc.).

Modern Notions of Femininity vs. Historical Reality

Rapunzel herself already engages in traditionally feminine activities (reading is very limited, baking, arts and crafts, etc.) for a modern audience. This is absolutely key because Mother Gothel wouldn’t be able to afford such a variety of paint for Rapunzel.

Painting for the longest time was considered a high art for men and male apprentices. Women weren’t encouraged to pursue it and it wasn’t seen as something traditionally feminine until recently.

Painting as a hobby (such as Rapunzel’s colorful and pastel palette) is more of a skill that is acceptable for girls now, since paint and brushes are in abundance and availability.

You can skip over this next part about the painting if you want. It’s basically me griping about how Rapunzel’s painting habits would be next to impossible in real life to do in the 1800s unless she had her own workshop with her own apprenticeship and income. 

Painting? Maybe... Painting on the Walls? No freaking Way

In reality, if this does take place in past Europe then she probably wouldn’t have access to paint as it was really expensive and you had to take things like climate, temperature, and color into account to transporting and making it.

Location was really important, as paint in Northern Europe wouldn’t be compatible with the temperature of Southern Europe (because it would melt). And in Rapunzel’s case, if you’re putting it on a wall, then it would have to last a long time without melting or chipping away over time.  That is why old frescos (or Byzantine Wall Paintings) were chipped and rotted when they were rediscovered. Also, don’t even try to get blue, that color was crazy expensive lol.

Mother Gothel doesn’t appear to have the material wealth to afford it, otherwise she’d be able to afford way more and just import what she needs without leaving the tower. How could she afford all that paint? It was crazy expensive (unless you mixed it yourself). And that doesn’t even count the materials (brushes, color palettes, etc) needed to spread the paint across the entire tower. 

According to BBC’s Life in Colour: The Surprising History of Paint:

By the end of the 19th Century almost any colour could be purchased for a relatively low price.

Throughout the 1800s, traditional methods of producing colours declined as cheaper, reliable, standardised chemical methods replaced them. Most artists and their apprentices no longer mixed their own paints but bought them ready-made from professional “colourmen”.

So yeah, either Rapunzel would have to make them herself or she got Mother Gothel to buy it premixed for her (this is assuming that this takes place in 1840). The pigments she made would have most likely been toxic to handle. This was over a century before the creation of non toxic paint. And since she, you know, put them on the walls and most likely inhaled them---that’s just a recipe for disaster. 

Then again, it depends on whether or not she used oil based paint or water based paint. Oil based takes longer to dry than water based paint (6 hours!) and water based paint chips faster. 

Now for what I think many of you will go for when attempting to refute these points:

Tiana. 

Tiana’s story may take place in America with a more positive portrayal of the black community (though let’s be honest the whole thing with Vodoo being a force of evil is...ugh..) it still has some issues regarding condemning white people for their role in systemic racism and sexism. 

Tiana, a Black Woman’s Struggles in the Jim Crow South

“B-But Tiana wants a resturaunt!!1 It’s a simple wish for herself! Take that11!!!” 

Yeah, so? 

Do people actually think her story has nothing to do with misogynoir???it takes place in the Jim Crow South. 

Tiana faces systemic racism and is denied her dream based on her being black woman. Her entire character is centered around her connection to her heritage, her socioeconomic situation, and her culture. She may have married Naveen, but she had all the resources to buy her restaurant herself. Her liberation is her embracing her father’s words and living by them. 

And even with all this, because it takes place in America the story bends over backwards to make white characters who are totally not racist. Like Renegade Cut’s Analysis of “Late Stage Disney,” we have a system of violence and suppression being purposefully created for the benefit of white people being portrayed as a case by case problem rather than a systemic one.

They try to tell the audience that those who greatly benefit from this system (like Charlotte and her father) are good and only evil meanies take advantage of it. No...wtf?? I love this movie but Charlotte “I’m here to steal the spotlight cause I’m white” La Bouff is honestly the worst part. 

White princesses are white, and they don’t face systemic issues like systemic racism at all. They also just aren’t as involved in their culture because whiteness is so homogenized. They will never face that type of discrimination and the only way I can see them doing that is, well, talking about sexsm. 

Which they don’t seem to be interested in exploring.  

Final Thoughts

You’re probably wondering why I’m nit picking at so many of these white princesses. Well, a lot of fans argue that they are whitewashed because it’s “Historically Accurate (tm),” but these movies conveniently leave out the sexism that permeates white european royal politics. 

You could argue that white princess films are based on modern sensibilties and don’t want to go too deep into sexism. The Little Mermaid is more in tune with modern attitudes toward (white) women, and it’s a fantasy for them. 

But the thing about this is that the Disney Renaissance was a new age and if they wanted to talk about trials of gender discrimination, they did. They had no problems going into heavier subjects like this when they focused on Aladdin and Mulan. Hell, Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin only came out within a year of one another, and the contrast between their portrayal of cultures and sexism is staggering. 

The only exception I can think of was the Hunchback of Notre Dame (which isn’t a princess movie, so it doesn’t really count in this discussion because marketing really changes the game). But we don’t see characters like Quasimodo being promoted on toys, backpacks, and merchandise in the same way like we do Anna, Elsa, and Rapunzel. Not to mention, the movie has it’s own problems, such as Esmarelda representing negative sexualized stereotypes of Rroma woman. 

While the Hunchback of Notre Dame has slightly more grace than it’s white disney princess counterparts, it still has problems that can effect the way that children view themselves and their cultures when through the lens of white people. 

Overall, the numbers of positive depictions of white europeans that omit historical sexism and violence in princess films far outweighs the ones that portray them more honestly.