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rabdoidal · 4 years ago

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i know you listen to a lot of podcasts and ive found some of my favourites from hearing you talk about them! do you have any favourites?

under the cut! my top 10 podcasts at the moment:

Alice Isn’t Dead Genre: horror, thriller, drama, Lovecraftian, Americana Episode count: 30 (completed) Description: A truck driver searches across America for the wife she had long assumed was dead. In the course of her search, she will encounter not-quite-human serial murderers, towns literally lost in time, and a conspiracy that goes way beyond one missing woman. Thoughts: This podcast is, to me at least, completely flawless in every way. I would consider myself a person that listens to a lot of horror podcasts, but Alice Isn’t Dead takes the cake for its depictions of liminal middle America, the horror that is capitalism, and the most tender, realistic depiction of lesbians in any podcast. Anything else I could say would spoil it and for this, I don’t want to spoil it because I want every person alive that can stomach horror to listen to this.

Archive 81 Genre: horror, comedy, sci-fi, Lovecraftian Episode count: 35 (ongoing) Description: Archive 81 is a found footage horror podcast about ritual, stories, and sound. Thoughts: The latest podcast I’ve tried, and it’s definitely one that grows on you. The audio mixing is some of the best I’ve heard in any podcast, and every bump and scratch and hum of frequency weaves to form moments that are truly and viscerally gory. Season 3 and Left of The Dial are my favorites because again, I love Americana horror, and anything that involves family!

Artificial Ghost Radio Genre: non-fiction, discussion, comedy Episode count: 75 (ongoing) Description: Our Sisyphean music recommendation challenge with hosts Miles (he/him) and Jupiter (she/they) challenge each other to find songs based on arbitrary themes and to spin the WHEEL OF DISCORD to talk about a random song from their library! They can be found on twitter @artghostpod. Thoughts: Gotta plug my own podcast! We’re still small, but the people I’ve met from doing AGR has made my life richer and fuller, even through the ups and downs. I recommend starting with #58: Songs about Aliens ft. our friend Liz (@thescaryjokes)!

EOS 10 Genre: medical drama, comedy, sci-fi Episode count: 34 (ongoing) Description: Doctors in space, a deposed alien prince, a super gay space pirate and a fiery nurse who'll help you win your bar fight. Thoughts: It’s been a hot minute since I listened, but as someone that inherently loves things like Star Trek and procedural comedies, EOS 10 is a quick and hilarious listen! Fair warning some of the earlier stuff is a little bit ignorant when it comes to their LGBT characters, but it gets a lot better over time.

King Falls AM Genre: horror, comedy, Lovecraftian Episode count: 100 (ongoing) Description: King Falls AM centers on a lonely little mountain town's late-night AM talk radio show and its paranormal, peculiar happenings and inhabitants Thoughts: I’m a bit behind, but again, gotta love some Alpine American horror! King Falls AM perfectly captures the feeling and sound of listening to a small late night radio show with two bros, but it really goes from typical dude dialogue to heart wrenching found family alien conspiracy real quick. Same as EOS 10, fair warning for some ignorant language and LGBT stereotypes, but they address it and it gets better as it progresses.

Not Another D&D Podcast Genre: actual play Dungeons and Dragons, TTRPG, comedy Episode count: 128 (ongoing) Description: Welcome to the campaign after the campaign! Three unlikely adventurers attempt to right the wrongs caused by a party of legendary heroes who screwed up the world while trying to save it. Thoughts: I’m only like 40 episodes in because they’re thick, meaty ‘sodes, but god is NADDPOD fucking hilarious. I’ve tried a fair few TTRPG shows, but the chemistry and care that the cast has together is unmatched by others in the genre. I’m a complete sucker for shows that are so funny and so tragic in equal measures, and the entire concept of a D&D game set after the world has been so drastically changed by a different D&D game is so unique!

The Faculty of Horror Genre: non-fiction, horror, philosophy, sociology, feminism Episode count: 86 (ongoing) Description: Tackling all things horror with a slash of analysis and research, horror journalists and occasional academics Andrea Subissati and Alexandra West are your hosts for brain-plumping discussions on all things that go bump in the night. Thoughts: A little non-fiction in this list of fiction podcasts! The Faculty of Horror is a concise and educated intersectional feminist podcast, and it’s a breath of fresh air to listen to anyone that isn’t a cishet white guy talk about horror. I highly recommend the episode on Cabin in The Woods or Jennifer’s Body!

The Magnus Archives Genre: horror, office comedy Episode count: 180 (ongoing) Description: The Magnus Archives is a weekly horror fiction anthology podcast examining what lurks in the archives of the Magnus Institute, an organization dedicated to researching the esoteric and the weird. Join new head archivist Jonathan Sims as he attempts to bring a seemingly neglected collection of supernatural statements up to date, converting them to audio and supplementing them with follow-up work from his small but dedicated team. Thoughts: TMA is, similarly to A81, a bit of a slow burn to get into, but I think once you listen to a few episodes you’ll know if you want to continue. It’s a pretty standard prompt for a narrative, but the sheer amount of individual short horror stories they’ve managed to write is insane! And I love the slow break down between recording statements and the stuff happening within the archives. Also one of the best redemption stories in a character that starts off as such a grumpy fuck!

The Penumbra Podcast Genre: sci-fi, neo-noir, romance, comedy, found family, magic, medieval fantasy, adventure, mystery Episode count: 75 (ongoing) Description: At the Penumbra, you might follow Juno Steel, a brooding, sharp-witted private eye on Mars, as he tangles with an elusive homme fatale, tracks dangerous artifacts of an ancient alien civilization, and faces his three greatest fears: heights, blood, and relationships. Or you might enter the world of the Second Citadel, where the merciless Sir Caroline must corral a team of emotionally distraught all-male knights to defend their city against mind-manipulating monsters...even the ones they’ve fallen in love with. Thoughts: On god TPP was a life changing podcast for me. Having creators that are genuinely concerned with accurately representing minorities with care and dedication makes me feel spoiled when I try listen to anything else. The two main universes are so different with their own set of histories and cultures, but I love them both so completely. If you want LGBT+ representation, this is the seminal podcast for everything non-binary, trans, queer, and people that aren’t afraid to change and have that change be known! I haven’t listened to another podcast that actually depicts transitioning like they do, absolute king shit.

Wolf 359 Genre: space drama, comedy, action Episode count: 61 (completed) Description: WOLF 359 is a radio drama in the tradition of Golden Age of Radio shows. Set on board the U.S.S. Hephaestus space station, the dysfunctional crew deals with daily life-or-death emergencies, while searching for signs of alien life and discovering there might be more to their mission than they thought Thoughts: Wolf 359 is like if you fell down the stairs and at the bottom of the stairs was a bear trap, and then after you step in the bear trap someone helps you take off that beartrap, but then they kick you in the nuts. Just replace physical pain with emotional pain. It can be so funny but also so fucking stressful and sad – w359 isn’t afraid to kill its darlings, and it will break your heart but you will still say thank you.

#personal #podcasts #podcast recommendations #long post #Anonymous

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drsilverfish · 5 years ago

Text

Nine Minutes to Midnight

5x21 Two Minutes to Midnight

Nine episodes to beat God, and fifteen years since Kripke pitched his original On The Road fan-fiction meets folk horror.

I’ve had a lot of fun in this little corner of Tumblr SPN fandom, over the eight years I’ve been here. I arrived as a newbie in 2012, and people already here were kind to me. I’ve seen people come and go, get disillusioned with SPN and move onto new fandoms, or arrive latterly into this one, brimming with excitement.

This is a weird social media platform, and I doubt it will be around forever, as one of its joys is how singularly bad it has been at integrating advertising.

Some of my favourite things here have been;

Comments in the tags, often funny, thinky, joyful - love this element of Tumblr.

Coda fic - this short-form story-style, which leaps into the fan-fiction gaps, loud silences and lacunae of the text - what a joy.

All the different roles people take on in fandom, as labours of love - gif makers, fic and meta writers, artists, vidders, archivists, signal-boosters, enthusiastic readers and beta-readers, art-lovers, networkers, collaborators, question-askers and answerers, and participants of all kinds (introvert and extrovert).

Completely unrelated to SPN, posts which are full of puns and hilarity, from “lik the bred” to Brits vs Americans on the subject of drinking tea. I still love Tumblr’s collective sense of humour; it’s witty and charming.

The language of gifs; those delightful comtemporary hieroglyphics of emotive expression.

The diversity - English is the shared language, but gradually it’s apparent that despite US dominance of the site, there are people from all over the world here, whose native tongues range from Russian to Italian to Brazilian Portuguese.

The collective meta experience - sharing “live” textual analysis has been huge fun. Viewing a text in a hive mind this way always shows you something you’d have missed on your own. It’s like holding up a crystal to a thousand lights and watching all the different refractions happening at once.

Again, not SPN specific, but experts in various subjects, from Egyptology to Medieval History suddenly emerging from the depths to provide a passionate and erudite exposition on their topic. Often prefaced with, “My time has come...”

Fandom has a dark side. It can be a coping mechansim, for many, in a healthy or less healthy way. There are unfortunately, always the formation of various “in-groups” and “out-groups”, ship wars, harrassment (of other fans, cast and crew), entitlement, and wild unpleasantness. And, that scourge of the internet in general; performative outrage (otherwise known as the outrage economy) which turns up the dial on provocative statements and negative emotion because that acts as catnip for engagement. A lot of people act out their shadow-selves online, projecting their own internal stuff onto others, from behind the screen.

Almost no media texts get to run as long as SPN (fifteen years) but my first fandom was (and is) Doctor Who and that has been going for over 50. It has some absolutely horrendously toxic spaces and places online, and many of pure joy. My advice is - find the joy.

Stories, by inviting us into the shoes of others, teach us at their (and our) best, the invaluable gift of empathy.

Take care of yourselves. Endings are hard, no doubt.

Special shout-out to fellow LGBTQ+ fans - hold onto your hearts.

It can be complicated loving a story telling its queer (romantic/ erotic) love story implicitly (i.e. in subtext).

Don’t forget (as I always say in my tags) subtext is part of narrative - meaning, the totality of a text contains its explicit and implicit elements; its text and its subtext, just like Metatron (aka Robbie T) told us in 9x18 Metafiction.

I wasn’t in the fandom myself, here on Tumblr, but I saw some of the fall-out from BBC Sherlock S4, and it was particularly distressing to see so many young LGBTQ+ fans feeling deeply hurt and even suicidal, because they’d read all the (extensively crafted) queer subtext in that show as a promise which would, inevitably, lead to an unequivocal queer “coming out” for John and Sherlock.

Those queer fans weren’t “self-queerbaiting” - they were just reading the totality of the text. And after all, why not read the subtext that way, as a promise? Being of a generation who’d already gotten to see many explicitly out queer characters on-screen; why not dare to imagine the subtext was a slow-burn romance with an inevitable “out” climax? Especially because Mark Gatiss (one of the writers) is out and queer himself, young queer fans were even more certain that his Sherlock would be the first “out” queer Sherlock on-screen (The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, 1970, which Gatiss is on record as being a fan of, had previously queer-coded Holmes, as indeed does Downey’s version, in Sherlock, 2009, and Sherlock 2: A Game of Shadows, 2011.)

Of course, the corporate and production politics were no doubt complex behind the scenes at the BBC, and Gatiss himself (apparently) saw things differently saying (in an interview in Oct 2010):

“No, I don’t think I’d make a kind of gay programme. It’s much more interesting when it’s not about a single issue. And equally, I find flirting with the homoeroticism in Sherlock much more interesting.” (Buzz Magazine Oct 2010: p10).

All of which, is why I’ve been adding a disclaimer to my readings of SPN’s queer subtext for a while now - namely, that reading the subtext doesn’t promise a rainbow of obviousness at the end.

As I said, take care of your hearts, lovelies.

Perhaps we shouldn’t need the narrative closet any longer.

But, we are walking between worlds, an old one and a new, both of them currently existing simultaneously, especially in a globalised world.

Queer audience fractions are, generally, more attuned to queer subtext, because it often uses codes derived from queer culture (although reading cinematic/ television subtext of all kinds is a learned skill, and no one is born with text-reading gaydar). So, whilst queer subtext may appear “loud” to some audience fractions, it remains invisible to others. That is, historically, by design, because, whilst “out” queer characters have gradually emerged on-screen since the 1950s [and the end of the Hays Code in Hollywood] queerness was, and still is (depending on where one is in the world) subject to legal penalty, state censorship or corporate production censorship.

A contemporary kind of state censorship is e.g. in China, where overt LGBTQ+ themes and characters cannot be depicted on-screen (hence, the queer subtext in The Untamed). A contemporary commodity kind of censorship might be e.g. notes from the Network, or TPTB at Marvel Studios with an eye on box-office. Queer subtext has the ability to slip past the censors, or be tolerated by them; because, now you see it/ now you don’t. A character with a straight “surface” reading and a queer subtextual one may (depending on the film/ TV product and its market etc,) be seen to pose less risk as a commercial product, whilst being able to appeal to different audience fractions simultaneously. For example, Captain Marvel (2019) and, as above, BBC Sherlock (2010-2017).

And yes, it’s complicated, because in the midst of that still extant censorship, which queer writers and other creatives on set may indeed be trying to work around by using queer subtext, we can see another world is possible. More out queer stories are being told. And, although we may love to see implicit queerness rather than no queerness at all, and indeed although implicit queerness may (arguably) have the freedom (still) to tell less boundaried or stereotyped stories than explicit queerness (with powerful effects on the audience fractions, both queer and straight, who do “see” it) we can’t deny that it does suit corporate entities, in some cases, to be able to appeal to a dual audience without the perceived “risk” of “outness”. A form of “queer-sploitation” which leads to the charge of “queer-baiting”.

The issue is, perhaps, particularly one surrounding male hero characters in Hollywood (and here in the UK) a) because “queer stories” are (still) often, not seen as likely to have universal appeal for broader audiences, whereas “straight stories” are not framed as “straight stories” but as universal ones, and b) because of the persistence of the prejudiced belief in particular that “queerness” undermines masculinity, especially “heroic” masculinity (here we have diverged markedly from the ancient Greeks). It’s somewhat different for female characters, but that’s another post. Fantasy, in the on-screen medium (if less so in fiction or comics) appears to be a more regressive genre than, say, comedy, in terms of the depiction of “out” queer central (rather than side) characters, with the exception of the Wachowskis’ Sense8 (2015-18) in which pretty much everyone is queer. I know there’s Ruby’ Rose’s Batwoman (2019- ) which I haven’t had a chance to check out yet, and we’ve got some queer Marvel (side) heroes upcoming, apparently; Valkyrie in Thor: Love and Thunder and Phastos in The Eternals - let’s see how that goes.

Moreover, queer subtext doesn’t have an exact analogy i.e. a “straight subtext” equivalent. Yes, many films and TV shows imply romantic/ sexual tension and interest between M/ F (pre)couples before it is “confirmed” they’re into each other in the text. However, because straight is the default assumption, audiences may muse and disagree about the potential for a M/ F romance at the implicit stage (as they have done in SPN fandom re Sam/ Rowena) but they don’t ask - “Does this mean they might be straight ????” It is assumed. Queerness, on the other hand, in order to be widely recognised (rather than solely by the subtext-reading audience fraction) must “come out” in some manner, explicitly, in the text (I don’t mean graphically, but “beyond reasonable doubt”). In other words, as painful as it is, we are not starting on a level playing field. It’s not fair, but it is the deal.

That doesn’t mean we can’t love contemporary queer subtextual stories, just that it’s important to acknowledge it can be painful, for some, to do so, and just as it’s important to acknowlege it’s OK to find them too painful to love, also (historical texts obviously operated under different circumstances).

Queer audiences are not homogenous. We can, and do, see things differently from one another, perhaps particularly across generations.

It is the case however, I think, that the structuring of a story by the narrative closet, as SPN has been structured by the narrative closet (up to this point, mid S15) (by which I mean its queerness is transparent to some, invisible to others, by design) cannot help but remind many queer audience members of our own struggles with the real world closet. Indeed that may make the story attractive, or unattractive, to different folk.

Incidentally, which is why I avoid it, I think the “it’s canon”/ “it’s subtext” debate is a false dichotomy and a bit confusing, as there are two, perfectly legitimate (within their own terms) definitions of “canon”. In the fandom sense, where “canon” means a romantic/ erotic pairing explicitly confirmed in the text, Destiel (meaning romantic/ erotic orientation between Dean and Cas) is not “canon” (as at 15x11). It is implied. Of course, it is explicit text that they care deeply for one another - “You’re my family. I love you, I love all of you” (12x12 Stuck in the Middle with You), “You’re my best friend” (15x09 The Trap). The exact nature of that relationship remains, however, deliberately, ambiguous.

In the literary sense, in which “canon” means “the official body of work”, SPN’s official body of work contains a metric tonne of implicit romantic/ erotic Dean/ Cas, so, it is part of the SPN “canon” in that sense - “subtextual canon” if you like. Although, of course, because implied, therefore open to interpretation.... deliberately transparent to some and invisible to others.

Despite all this complexity, and, indeed despite other elements of the SPN narrative which I have struggled with personally (the early seasons’ misogyny is off the charts sometimes, the brutally insensitive manner of Charlie’s death) I have loved this story, Supernatural, truly, madly, deeply, in large part because of its (implicit) queerness. And for may other reasons additionally, from its folkloric beginnings and dark initial cinematographic palette, to its melodrama, to its, eventual, Ourboros structure, and its Jungian alchemical journey marrying the cosmic to the earthly.

Reading the show without the queer subtext remains possible, but oh boy is that analogous to only considering the above sea-level portion of an iceberg.

I would prefer a rainbow of obviousness at The EndTM, but I don’t expect one. What I expect is continued, deliberate, ambiguity. Something I am sure we will be debating the ethics of, long after.

I could be wrong :-). But I am taking my own advice, and taking care of my heart.

For now, it’s nine minutes to midnight; let’s see how the story ends.

And afterwards, however the chips may fall, the characters will (as this most meta-narrative of seasons has been busy telling us) be set free of “Chuck’s” control. They will belong to us, in a thousand thousand fan-works, for as long as we care to keep on loving them.

#Supernatural #SPN meta #Meta #5x21 #Two Minutes to Midnight #Endings are hard #Who am I kidding #Fandom is going to go wild #Whatever happens #The great queerbaiting debate #Reading Subtext #Dean is bisexual #Destiel #Still subtext #But subtext is part of narrative

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applegelstore · 6 years ago

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My sis and I are through with the actual main plot of KH3, so I can officially go back to scheduled ToZ fangirling now. …Well, I promised Cray a bit of fix-it-fanart, so after that, I guess.

Hit the cut for a resume. It got super long and has endgame story spoilers, so you might not want to stumble upon it by accident.

Another extra big shoutout (again!) to @crazayrock for bearing my liveblogging on Discord, screaming without context and occasional spoilers. And linking me fluffy Soriku doujinshi. Here, have my favourite, spoiler-heavy excerpt of our conversation:

Okay anyway, let’s get started: GAMEPLAY

Kingdom Hearts 3 is BEAUTIFUL. The gameplay is so smooth and intuitive that you can immediately get to playing like you’d never done anything else; in fact so smooth that I doubt I will ever be able to pick up the first game ever again. It’s always been fun, but the looooooong years’ gap actually did wonders to the gameplay.

The keyblade form changes are fun and keep things fresh, you can do flashy triangle button shit every other minute, and shotlock is still insanely useful without being a game-breaker.

It seems easier than the first two main games, though?

The gummi ship is still a pain in the ass to steer, but I do enjoy the open world-like travel options (even if there’s not… much to discover except heartless lasering the shit out of you). I’m also eternally grateful that they kept the gummi ship thing from KH2 where you can just use a new gummi ship once you got the blueprint and don’t buy actual fucking legos as in the first game.

Thank you, Square. Not thanking you for the dumb cherry flan game, though.

The Caribbean being basically an open world stage was delightful! Apparently what our resident island kid needs is a big ship and tropical islands to plunder.

VISUALS AND STUFF

PRETTY LIGHTS EVERYWHERE

The long gap between the games also did wonders to the visuals.

There’s finally, FINALLY a few towns with actual NPCs you can talk to. Why it took the team so many years and the Gods know how many games is beyond me. The magic effects are beautiful, the animations smooth (honestly you can hardly tell apart cutscenes and fully rendered CGI scenes in this day and age of the PS4. I’m probably the only person still amazed by this because the only games I played on PS4 before were a few hours of Child of Light and of course Tales of Zestiria and Berseria. No, I still haven’t played FFXV but that’s a topic for another day). How far videogames have come.Even space finally looks like space, lol. Not really high-end what the PS4 can do I assume but god, it’s such an amazing and much needed upgrade from the terrible textureless colourful tubes you flew through before.

No excuse for the terrible battleship thingy before the Keyblade Graveyard, though. I got lost and beaten up so many times and crashed against more walls than I can count.

Nothing beats the World that Never Was, but the Keyblade Graveyard also has creepy cool potential, as does the beautiful but ghosted City in the Sky.

Still not getting what’s with JRPGs and very Definitely Final Dungeons (TM) that are basically space. …………or heaven. Or nothing. I’m getting the bad kind of original NGE TV series ending vibes. But. Okay.

The soundtrack is splendid

.……I miss Traverse Town and Radiant Garden, however.

Which brings us to:

THE WORLDS

I guess I can live with no more Final Fantasy characters being there (although I always loved that), and the meta jokes in Toy Story world really got me. Seeing Disney characters calling the KH villains call out on their shit was delightful. …the KH characters lampshading their own games’ sloppy dialogue writing was delightful.Still, those Disney worlds are always so much more in my head than what I actually get to play. This has been bugging me ever since the first game and it still does. I do not expect or want to replay the entire movies, but would it hurt to give the cutscenes some goddamn background music? Whenever there’s cutscenes, either the world’s usual BGM keeps playing or the music stops altogether. Together with the shortened dialogues and generally drastically shortened plots with odd cuts, that leads to scenes that are awkward at best. They never even remotely have the impact the movies had. You just sit there and think “oh wow that is so silly and awkward”.

Dancing scene in Corona? My favorite scene in Tangled. Zero impact on me without the lovely BGM (at least they made it a minigame so the moment isn’t over after 3 secs). Just for example. You can ask me like, world by world, but I can think of only exception off the top of my head and it’s not helping:

Let it Go of course. Listen guys, I actually love the song. But it’s so overused (and Frozen is an overrated movie at best that doesn’t deserve its hype in the slightest) that I can’t even really enjoy it being there. Like.

 IF THAT’S OKAY WITH YOU,WHY DIDN’T YOU INCLUDE LITERALLY ANY OTHER ORIGINAL SONG FROM THE ORIGINAL MOVIES. Instead of BGM just not being there entirely, or in odd, cringey re-renderings that nobody wants to listen to (*cough* Atlantica *cough*).

Why torture me and not give me the one good scene from At World’s End (the up is down scene) when you had the chance?Kingdom Hearts is also prone to super lazy level design and wasting chances at wonderful scenery for no apparent reason other than I suppose empty cliffsides are quick to render. All games before did that, and KH3 is, sadly, no exception. We get to see a bit of Corona and Athens and they finally have NPCs, too, but you cannot even get near Arendelle. You cannot enter Elsa’s palace. You spend the entire time there climbing around in the snowy mountains of Norway, and unfortunately it looks less interesting than one would expect from the lovely concept art that the film unfortunately never used.You cannot enter Rapunzel’s tower although Sora can apparently parkour his way up even without her help.

………In short, the places you can go are, again, very limited, and a lot of interesting places and scenes you never get to see.

And to follow the plot you still only need the stuff that does NOT happen in those Disney worlds because they’re all beach filler episodes. It’s always been like that, but I keep wondering whether I’m the only one bothered by that. I’m also still salty they didn’t introduce a single new world from a 2D animated movie.

Also, as I said, I miss Traverse Town, it felt so warm and welcoming and beautiful.

And I get behind The World that Never Was missing although I loved it there, but why not give us back Radiant Garden? Destiny Islands since they’ve been restored? Disney Castle?

As much as I love the series, it never fucking lives up to its own potential. Idk whether it’s made more difficult by copyright issues or whatever, I just know that it bugs me.The first two games also had like twice as many worlds.

PLOT

I mean it’s never been deep; however, it’s complicated. No analysis or whatever from me because plot analysis and meta writing bore me like seven hells, just my emotional reaction: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH  Okay, bad news. I got into it expecting nothing, and still got disappointed. I don’t actually enjoy the prospect of writing essays about it, but here’s my tea with it; in not particular order:

1) the pacing is terrible. Nothing happens for like 30 hours and then suddenly like 20 characters’ arcs are (naturally poorly) resolved within the last few hours of cutscenes. Build up anyone? At least they actually did pick up Maleficent and the box thing again. …In the epilogue.

2) Speaking of build ups, Sora’s breakdown could have been developed nicely and steadily over the game to feel natural, and instead it’s hinted at in the beginning by everyone picking on him, but then it’s never further developed and comes out of fucking nowhere. Like. For real? It felt terribly OOC.

3) Why on earth have they shown 90% of the plot in the trailers already, and why are those scenes so massively disappointing in context

4) Kairi. Oh god, Kairi. What are we gonna do with you. I want to love her, I really do, but she’s a prime example of shittily written female leads. Mostly because she’s not leading. It’s not her fault. She’s just a fictional character. But honest to God, Nomura, why. Her screen time is almost nonexistent, and she’s entirely use- and helpless whenever she’s on screen (which isn’t often). Her ONLY point in the plot is being rescued because she is fucking useless. Why. Just why. Why waste her character like that. All we know is that she’s shoehorned into being the token love interest, but she has zero plot relevance and there is even less build up of her relationship with Sora. It’s all tell and NEVER show; and not even much telling, either. She has literally zero direct interaction with in the entire game before they share their paopu. The question remains: why are straights like this

5) On a related note: look, I don’t even ask for (or expect, or even hope) my ship to be canon. Squeenix doesn’t exactly have a rich history in queer representation. I’m totally fine with Sora and Riku being best friends. BUT. Building up Sora as the most important person in Riku’s life (and arguably, vice versa) over the course of several games, just to then hardly have them interact in the finale and then SUDDENLY bring back Kairi into the equation, who hasn’t interacted with him since the ending of KH2 (except for one unsent(?) letter) is just piss poor writing, period.I actually love Cray’s suggestion she gave me over Discord: let Sora, Kairi and Riku all share a paopu together (and let them group hug, too, you cowards). It would have been the perfect message to send (Sora as truly all-loving hero, and loving all your friends equally; romantic love isn’t more important than platonic love and doesn’t need to be singled out). Really sad that this isn’t what happens. Apparently that wouldn’t have been no homo enough.

LET THE DESTINY TRIO GROUP HUG YOU COWARDS 

Do Riku and Kairi even interact once in the whole game?

 HOW IS THIS A TRIO, IT’S JUST A SHITTILY WRITTEN LOVE TRIANGLE

6) Time travelling is a bitch, Christ. It doesn’t solve plotholes or can be played for drama, it just adds MORE plotholes. It just got WORSE. The cloning blues and people not aging doesn’t help, either.

7) Just so you know, I care absolutely zero for wild fan theories. You’re not Nomura. I want a statement from the man who wrote this shit himself why on bloody earth Sora dies when he apparently successfully found and brought back Kairi (and since nobody aged a day, apparently it didn’t even take that long lol). DUDES, THIS IS KINDA PART OF THE PLOT, AND YOU DON’T BOTHER TO EXPLAIN IT INGAME???? And how was Ienzo/Zexion able to revive Naminé while Kairi was still missing/dead/whatever…?

Okay so in short the writing is worse than ever and that’s saying something.

However, let’s try to find something good in this trainwreck; it wasn’t all bad. There’s some really nice scenes which sadly are better enjoyed without any context at all.

So, guess my favourite scenes.You had time enough, here’s the solution:

1) Purifying uhm er rescuing Aqua. Poor girl. She deserves the rest. Poor, poor Aqua. The only properly wirrten female in the whole damn franchise. Also the only person other than Riku who fucking gets shit done.

2) The Gayblade (TM)

3) Happy Axel in the reunion with his kids. Oh god, the poor chap deserves it so much. Thank you, Nomura. I don’t care that it makes pretty much no sense. Make him happy. Give him his friends back. Just give Axel all his friends and let him happily set things on fire. Hi I love Axel

4) The party at the beach cutscene before the credits roll. Axel and Xion get clothes. Half the organization is on our side now. I almost teared up at the Wayfinder trio saying goodbye to Eraqus’ forceghost. Hey come on he’s the voice of Luke Skywalker

5) Sully yeeting Vanitas

6) Woody calling out Xehanort that nobody loves him

7) Jack Sparrow bad breathing Luxord

I wish we had gotten:

1) justice for Kairi

2) a happy Zexion, the poor emo kid. Well maybe now he will be, with all the orga members who changed sides now, lol.

3) I will never trust mobile games ever again so I don’t want to play KHUX but I would have loved to learn about the Keyblade Wars :;)))) 

WHAT WAS THE KEYBLADE WAR ABOUT CAN WE SPEND MORE TIME IN THAT COOL CITY IN THE SKY WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH MIKLEO I MEAN THAT EPHEMER KIDDO

 WHAT’S WITH THE MASKED DUDES AND DUDETTES FROM THE MOVIE 

WTF WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM AFTER THE MOVIE???? WHERE THOSE KEYBLADE USER NAMES ACTUAL MOBILE GAME PLAYER NAMES??? Next game? PLEASE?

I really, REALLY hope the epilogue means we will get Xiggy/Luxu as our new big bad and we learn more about the five dudes and dudettes from the movie. Please. PLEASE. I’m so up for it. Them finally pickung up the bit with Maleficent and the mysterious box again? Hell yeah.

The secret movie was really unexciting in comparison, although I laughed very hard at the “Verum Rex” scene in Toy Story world. Maybe that’s why it was much cheaper to unlock than in KH1 and KH2.

4) give Ven a drink

DLC ideas I would actually pay for because I’m a sad human being: 1) more Disney worlds 2) Japanese audio 3) at least one of the following as permanently playable characters: Riku, Kairi, Axel, Ven, Aqua. At least as a guest member as in KH2. THIS SUCH A BIG STEP BACKWARDS I’M FUMING

FINAL THOUGHTS

Kingdom Hearts 3 is a hella lot of fun, beautiful, and also moving when it sets its mind to it. Unfortunately it doesn’t always do so. I don’t feel like it wasn’t worth the wait; it was. However, I’m very salty how rotten the writing is. I do not mind logical fallacies, I do not mind the cheesiness and cringeyness; however, I do mind how so many interesting characters do not get the screentime they deserve, and Kairi is a very bad joke.

I’ll probably find more to nitpick about (Gods. Just. Don’t come up with dub excuses why Sora is lv 1 in each game. JUST LEAVE IT BE. You don’t explain why Donald and Goofy are lv 1 again, either. JUST. LEAVE. IT. BE. The sacrifice was dumb and not even moving, I’m just still furious that Kairi’s ONLY point in the plot is being so useless that it’s literally getting herself KILLED and she needs constant rescuing to the point that Sora has to sacrifice himself for her, effectively. Kairi deserves better, Sora deserves better, I deserve better than to think about this absurdity.…I’m just… gonna cherry-pick the good bits from the lore and try to pretend the finale didn’t exist, I guess. GODS.

#long post #random rambling tag

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green-violin-bow · 7 years ago

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Hawksmoor, BBC Sherlock and historiographic metafiction

First:

This piece is not of academic quality or rigour. I left university eight years ago; I studied literature in two languages and did well at it. Nevertheless I am no longer in academia and have not written an essay since then. My sources are partial, dependent on what I can get access to through my local library, through academic friends, or what I choose to pay for on JSTOR. I work full-time and have put no time into e.g. referencing (always my least favourite part of essays).

Although I personally hold out hope for unambiguous Johnlock still, I would not class this as a ‘meta’ arguing that it will certainly happen. This is a reading, undertaken for my own satisfaction and interest, jumping off from the inclusion of ‘Hawksmoor’ as a password in one scene of The Six Thatchers. I do not particularly mean to suggest that Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat are deliberately playing with/off literary criticism. They may well be holding two (or more) time periods in tension, however, in a way that I choose to explore through the lens of the literary tools described here. I do not seek to challenge or disprove other fan theories.

I am no television/film studies scholar. There are probably layers and layers of nuance and meaning that I’m missing because I simply have no frame of theoretical reference in that field (and one of the primary ‘texts’ we are talking about here is, after all, a television show). The abundance of television and film references discovered by Sherlock fans have made it clear that the show’s creators deliberately allude to other visual media within modern Sherlock all the time. I believe my approach here is valid because Hawksmoor, a literary text, is pointed to in the show, and because ACD canon itself was a literary text. But I want to flag up this important way in which my analysis is deficient.

I tagged a few people in this but I’m aware this is more of a musing/essay than a traditional ‘meta’ so don’t worry about reading/responding if it’s not your thing!

The Six Thatchers

In The Six Thatchers, Sherlock visits Craig the hacker, to borrow his dog Toby. On the left of our screen (taking up an entire wall of Craig’s house, realistically enough…) are lines of code, in the centre of which is written ‘Hawksmoor17’.

I was interested in finding out more about this. I decided my first port of call would be the ‘detective novel’ Hawksmoor, by Peter Ackroyd.

Peter Ackroyd

Peter Ackroyd is a historian and author, who has written a huge array of fiction and non-fiction, including:

London: The Biography (non-fiction)

Queer City: Gay London from the Romans to the Present Day (non-fiction)

The Last Testament of Oscar Wilde (an imagining of the diary Oscar Wilde might have written in exile in Paris)

Dan Leno and the Limehouse Golem (novel, presenting the diary of a murderer)

Hawksmoor (novel)

In his work London is present, constantly, a character in itself, woven into the very fabric of the story as irrevocably as it is into the mythos of Sherlock Holmes.

Hawksmoor

In brief, Hawksmoor is a postmodern detective story, running in two timelines. Each timeline focuses on a main character: in 1711, the London architect Nicholas Dyer; two hundred and fifty years later, in the 1980s, Nicholas Hawksmoor, a detective, responsible for investigating a series of murders carried out near the churches built by Dyer.

Ackroyd plays with the ‘real history’ of London throughout, muddling and confusing the past with fictional events, with conspiracy and rumour.

There was a real London architect named Nicholas Hawksmoor who worked alongside Christopher Wren in eighteenth-century London to design some of its most famous buildings. He also designed six churches. Ackroyd chooses to change the eighteenth-century architect’s name to Nicholas Dyer, and to make Nicholas Hawksmoor the twentieth-century fictional detective instead – a deliberate muddling together of timelines and of ‘facts’.

Ackroyd had drawn inspiration for Hawksmoor from Iain Sinclair’s poem, ‘Nicholas Hawksmoor: His Churches’ (Lud Heat, 1975). This poem suggests that the architectural design of Hawksmoor’s churches is consistent with him having been a Satanist.

As well as changing the historical figure Hawksmoor’s last name to Dyer, Ackroyd adds a church, ‘Little St Hugh’. Seven, in total.

The architect Dyer writes his own story, in the first person and in eighteenth-century style.

Only in Part Two of the novel does Nicholas Hawksmoor – a fictional detective with a real man’s name – appear, to investigate the three murders that have so far happened in 1980s London. Written in the third person, the reader is nonetheless invited into Hawksmoor’s thoughts, his point of view.

As the novel proceeds, Ackroyd employs literary devices so that the stories – separated, apparently, by so much time – begin to blur. In particular, the architect Dyer and the detective Hawksmoor are linked. For instance, both men experience a kind of loss of self, a “dislocation of identity”, upon staring into a convex mirror (Ahearn, 2000, DOI: 10.1215/0041462X-2000-1001).

The cumulative effect of all the parallels is that the reader starts to lose any sense of temporal separation between the time periods; starts to see Dyer and Hawksmoor as almost the same person; to suspect each of them of being the murderer and the detective at the same time. The parallels between the time periods “escape any effort at organization and create a mental fusion between past and present” so that “fiction and history fuse so thoroughly that an abolition of time, space, and person is […] inflicted on the reader” (Ahearn, 2000).

Importantly, I believe, Hawksmoor again and again “tries to reconstruct the timing of the crimes, but this is from the start impossible” (Ahearn, 2000). This is a rather familiar feeling to Sherlock Holmes fans.

At the end of the book, Dyer and Hawksmoor come together in the church, take hands across time, or perhaps out of time. They become aware of one another. Their perspectives dissolve and seem to merge into one person, into a new style of narration not like either of them: “when he put out his hand and touched him he shuddered. But do not say that he touched him, say that they touched him. And when they looked at the space between them, they wept” (Ackroyd, 1985).

Historiographic metafiction

Hawksmoor is a postmodern detective story. It has been classified by critics as a work of ‘historiographic metafiction’. As a detective story, it lacks the most familiar feature – a detective who is able to sort and order the events and facts, before finally drawing together all the threads to present a coherent, satisfying and plot-hole-free conclusion. In other words, a solution to the mystery.

So what is ‘metafiction’? Waugh defines it as “a term given to fictional writing which self-consciously and systematically draws attention to its status as an artefact in order to pose questions about the relationship between fiction and reality” (1984).

In Hawksmoor, Ackroyd uses a popular literary form (the detective story) to unsettle our understanding of fiction, reality and history. An Agatha Christie detective novel (for example) relies on an accepted, understood structure, where the reader has definite expectations of what the outcome will be; as such, Christie’s novels “provide collective pleasure and release of tension through the comforting total affirmation of accepted stereotypes” (Waugh, 1984). In metafiction, however, there is often no traditionally predictable, neat, satisfying ending: accepted stereotypes are disturbed rather than affirmed. The application of rationality and logic to the clues gets the detective no closer to solving the crime. Readerly expectation (“the triumph of justice and the restoration of order” [Waugh, 1984]) is thwarted.

Hutcheon coined the term ‘historiographic metafiction’, fiction where “narrative representation – fictive and historical – comes under […] subversive scrutiny […] by having its historical and socio-political grounding sit uneasily alongside its self-reflexivity” (Hutcheon, 2002). It is a kind of fiction that explicitly points out the text-dependent nature of what we know as ‘history’: “How do we know the past today? Through its discourses, through its texts – that is, through the traces of its historical events: the archival materials, the documents, the narratives of witnesses…and historians” (Hutcheon, 2002).

Whereas a ‘historical novel’ will present an account of the past which purports to be true, a ‘historiographic metafiction’ has a combination of:

deliberate, self-reflexive foregrounding of the difficulty of telling ‘the whole story’ or ‘the whole truth’ especially due to the limitations of the narrative voice;

internal metadiscourse about language revealing the fictional nature of the text;

an attempt to explain the present by way of the past, simultaneously giving a (partial) account of both;

disturbed chronology in the narrative structure, representing the determining presence of the past in the present;

‘connection’ of the historical period structurally to the novel’s present;

a self-consciously incomplete and provisional account of ‘what really happened’ e.g. via ‘holes’ in the [hi]story which cannot be resolved by either narrator or reader (Widdowson, 2006, DOI: 10.1080/09502360600828984).

The above points are certainly true of Hawksmoor. The reader of Sherlock Holmes will find some of them very familiar – for example, Watson’s self-conscious in-world changing of dates, names and places; and the impossible-to-resolve timeline. The audience of BBC Sherlock will also find these features very recognisable, especially from Series 4 of the programme.

I’d like to examine BBC Sherlock itself as a ‘historiographic metafiction’: a ‘text’ which self-consciously holds the past and present fictional events of Sherlock Holmes’ life in tension, not merely as another adaptation of the source text, but as a way of destabilising the accepted ‘[hi]story’ and mythos of Sherlock Holmes.

The Great Game

The Sherlockian fandom is well-known for its practice of ‘The Great Game’:

“Holmesian Speculation (also known as The Sherlockian game, the Holmesian game, the Great Game or simply the Game) is the practice of expanding upon the original Sherlock Holmes stories by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle by imagining a backstory, history, family or other information for Holmes and Watson, often attempting to resolve anomalies and clarify implied details about Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. It treats Holmes and Watson as real people and uses aspects of the canonical stories combined with the history of the era of the tales' composition to construct fanciful biographies of the pair.” [x]

There are a number of interesting features about the Great Game. It:

pretends that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were real people;

ignores or explains away the real author Arthur Conan Doyle’s existence;

attempts to use ‘real’ historical facts (texts…) to resolve gaps in a fictional text;

in turn, produces additional (meta)fictional texts, often presented as ‘fact’ in journals set up for the purpose;

in so doing, adds constantly to the (meta)fictional destabilisation of chronology and holes in the story, as different, competing ‘versions’ are added by a multitude of authors.

The Sherlock Holmes fandom, as it attempts to elucidate ‘what really happened’, only destabilises the original (hi)story further – drawing attention, over and over again, to the gaps and inconsistencies in the original canon tales.

I would argue that the Sherlock fandom has been engaged, for over a century, in an act of collective historiographic metafiction.

The writers of BBC Sherlock are aware of themselves as fans, and of the wider Sherlockian fandom. They paid tribute to Holmesian Speculation in the episode title of Series 1 Episode 3. The title – ‘The Great Game’ – is a signal, an early marker of postmodernity in BBC Sherlock, a sign that the Sherlockian fandom will not be absent from this metafiction.

Implicating the reader/audience

There is an interesting moment in Hawksmoor where Detective Chief Superintendent Nicholas Hawksmoor goes to investigate the murder of a young boy near the church of St-George’s-in-the-East. The body is beside “a partly ruined building which had the words M SE M OF still visible above its entrance” (Ackroyd, 1985).

As Lee says, the “missing letter is "U," ("you") the reader” (1990).

Elsewhere in the book, Hawksmoor receives a note instructing him “DON’T FORGET … THE UNIVERSAL ARCHITECT” alongside a “sketch of a man kneeling with a white disc placed against his right eye” (Ackroyd, 1985).

Lee suggests that this drawing refers to “detective fiction’s transcendental signifier” Sherlock Holmes, and that the “Universal Architect, here, can only be the reader, since it is he or she who is in possession of all the histories: the historically verifiable past, the eighteenth-century text and the text accumulated through reading”. Thus, the reader is “doubly implicated not only as a repository of the past, but also as a co-creator of artifact and artifice” (Lee, 1990). In the Sherlock Holmes fandom, this is more true than in almost any other; co-creators indeed.

The missing ‘U’ in Hawksmoor can be clearly linked to the daubed ‘YOU’ in ‘The Abominable Bride’, a sign that, from that point on, BBC Sherlock will be clearly and mercilessly implicating its audience; putting the Sherlockian fandom back in the story, where it has always belonged. This includes the writers and creators of BBC Sherlock.

I also think there is reason to link the ‘YOU’ daubed on the wall to another piece of graffiti in BBC Sherlock – the yellow smiley face in 221b. An all-seeing, ever-present audience within Sherlock and John’s very home.

It is often repeated that Arthur Conan Doyle only continued to write Sherlock Holmes stories out of financial necessity and due to public demand; that he was bored and exasperated by his creation. The Sherlock Holmes fandom is (possibly apocryphally) known as having worn black armbands in the street in mourning for the fictional detective when Conan Doyle attempted to kill him off in The Final Problem.

The Sherlock Holmes fandom has long been considered importunate and unruly. As Stephen Fry puts it in his foreword to The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes: “Holmes has been bent and twisted into every genre imaginable and unimaginable: graphic novels, manga, science fiction, time travel, erotica, literary novels, animation, horror stories, comic books, gaming and more. Junior Sherlocks, animal Sherlocks, spoofs called Sheer Luck and Schlock; you think it up, and you’ll find it’s been done before. There is no indignity that has not been heaped upon the sage and super-sleuth of Baker Street” (2017).

And yet, with every new adaptation, there is a tendency to regard it as a blank slate, in direct conversation with the canon of Arthur Conan Doyle. There is a tendency to forget the changes that fandom itself has wrought on the figure of Sherlock Holmes – a weight of stereotype and expectation which warps the character to a pre-fit mould in every incarnation. As Fry says, Holmes:

“rises up, higher and higher with each passing decade, untarnished and unequalled. Because, I suppose, we need him, more and more, a figure of authority that is benign, rational, soothing, omniscient, capable and insightful. In a world, and in daily lives, so patently devoid of almost all those marvellous qualities, how welcome that is, and how grateful we are, for its presence in our lives. So grateful, that we won’t really accept that Sherlock Holmes could ever be classed as ‘make believe’. Between fact and fiction is a space where legend dwells. It is where Holmes and Watson will always live” (2017).

This is the traditional understanding of Sherlock Holmes and its fandom, and is highly reminiscent of the voiceover by Mary Morstan in Series 4 Episode 3, ‘The Final Problem’: “I know who you really are. A junkie who solves crimes to get high, and the doctor who never came home from the war. Well, you listen to me: who you really are, it doesn’t matter. It’s all about the legend, the stories, the adventures. There is a last refuge for the desperate, the unloved, the persecuted. There is a final court of appeal for everyone. When life gets too strange, too impossible, too frightening, there is always one last hope. When all else fails, there are two men sitting arguing in a scruffy flat like they’ve always been there, and they always will. The best and wisest men I have ever known – Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson.” [transcript by Ariane Devere]

The conception of Sherlock Holmes as “a figure of authority that is benign, rational, soothing, omniscient, capable and insightful” shows what we, the reader, want: a traditional detective story, with an all-knowing detective, who uses rationality and logic to assess the clues and brings us smoothly, at last, to a solution which reasserts the order of things; where justice is done and society is made safe once again.

BBC Sherlock, however, resists these comforting fictions. The detective unravels, becoming more emotional, more human as the story progresses. Mysteries go unsolved. The narrator gets more unreliable with every episode. Characters inhabit strange states, seemingly alive or dead as the story demands. The ‘rules’ of traditional detective fiction are flouted left, right and centre.

Viewed as a historiographic metafiction, BBC Sherlock aims to hold up the historical text (ACD canon) against the modern one (BBC Sherlock) in such a way as to slough away a century of extra-canonical fan speculation and addition, and give a new reading to canon.

‘Writing back’: re-visionary fiction

I would now like to look at Peter Widdowson’s journal article, ‘Writing back’: Contemporary re-visionary fiction’ (DOI: 10.1080/09502360600828984). He argues that there is a “radically subversive sub-set of contemporary ‘historiographic metafiction’” which, while being “acutely self-conscious about their metafictional intertextuality and dialectical connection with the past”, ‘write back’ to “formative narratives that have been central to the textual construction of dominant historical worldviews”.

Widdowson explains that his term ‘re-visionary’: “deploys a tactical slippage between the verb to revise (from the Latin ‘revisere’: ‘to look at again’) – ‘to examine and correct; to make a new, improved version of; to study anew’; and the verb to re-vision – to see in another light; to re-envision or perceive differently; and thus potentially to recast and re-evaluate (‘the original’)” (2006). He points out that this is closest to Rich’s approach to feminist criticism: “We need to know the writing of the past, and know it differently than we have ever known it; not to pass on a tradition but to break its hold over us” (Rich, 1975).

This act of ‘knowing it differently’ can also be achieved by “the creative act of ‘re-writing’ past fictional texts in order to defamiliarize them and the ways in which they have been conventionally read within the cultural structures of patriarchal and imperial/colonial dominance” (Widdowson, 2006).

Widdowson lays out what he regards as the defining characteristics of re-visionary fiction, first negatively by what it is not:

Re-visionary fiction does not simply take an earlier work as its source for writing;

It is not simply modern adaptation – instead it challenges the source text;

It is not parody – whereas parody takes a pre-existing work and reveals its particular stylistic traits and ideological premises by exaggerating them in order to render it absurd or to satirise the ‘follies of its time’, a re-visionary work seeks to bring into view “those discourses in [the source text] suppressed or obscured by historically naturalising readings. The contemporary version attempts, as it were, to replace the pre-text with itself, at once to negate the pre-text’s cultural power and to ‘correct’ the way we read it in the present” (Widdowson, 2006).

As to what re-visionary fiction is:

First, it challenges the accepted authority of the original. “[S]uch novels invariably ‘write back’ to canonic texts of the English tradition – those classics that retain a high profile of admiration and popularity in our literary heritage – and re-write them ‘against the grain’ (that is, in defamiliarising, and hence unsettling, ways)”. This means that “a hitherto one-way form of written exchange, where the reader could only passively receive the message handed down by a classic text, has now become a two-way correspondence in which the recipient answers or replies to – even answers back to – the version of things as originally delineated. In other words, it represents a challenge to any writing that purports to be ‘telling things as they really are’, and which has been believed and admired over time for doing exactly that.”

Second, it keeps a constant tension between the source and the new text. A re-visionary fiction will “keep the pre-text in clear view, so that the original is not just the invisible ‘source’ of a new modern version but is a constantly invoked intertext for it and is constantly in dialogue with it: the reader, in other words, is forced at all points to recall how the pre-text had it and how the re-vision reinflects this.”

Third, it enables us to read the source text with new eyes, free of established preconceptions. Re-visionary fictions “not only produce a different, autonomous new work by rewriting the original, but also denaturalise that original by exposing the discourses in it which we no longer see because we have perhaps learnt to read it in restricted and conventional ways. That is, they recast the pre-text as itself a ‘new’ text to be read newly – enabling us to ‘see’ a different one to the one we thought we knew as [Sherlock Holmes] – thus arguably releasing them from one type of reading and repossessing them in another.” The new text ‘speaks’ “the unspeakable of the pre-text by very exactly invoking the original and hinting at its silences or fabrications.”

Fourth, it forces the reader to consider the two texts together at all times: “our very consciousness of reading a contemporary version of a past work ensures that such an oscillation takes place, with the reader, as it were, holding the two texts simultaneously in mind. This may cause us to see parallels and contrasts, continuities and discontinuities, between the period of the original text’s production and that of the modern work.”

Fifth, they “alert the reader to the ways past fiction writes its view of things into history, and how unstable such apparently truthful accounts from the past may be”, making clear that the original text, though canon, was also just a text and should not necessarily govern our perceptions and understanding forever.

Sixth, “re-visionary novels almost invariably have a clear cultural-political thrust. That is why the majority of them align themselves with feminist and/or postcolonialist criticism in demanding that past texts’ complicity in oppression – either as subliminally inscribed within them or as an effect of their place and function as canonic icons in cultural politics – be revised and re-visioned as part of the process of restoring a voice, a history and an identity to those hitherto exploited, marginalized and silenced by dominant interests and ideologies.”

That last point, I think, should also apply to queer re-visionings of source texts (and indeed, Widdowson uses the example of Will Self’s Dorian: An Imitation re-visioning Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray in his article).

We can view BBC Sherlock as a re-visionary fiction which aims to ‘speak’ “the unspeakable of the pre-text by […] hinting at its silences or fabrications.”

BBC Sherlock as re-visionary fiction

Not only does BBC Sherlock have to hold itself up against the original canon of Arthur Conan Doyle; there is also a century of accumulated speculation and creation by an extremely active and resourceful fandom to contend with.

I think that BBC Sherlock asks us to re-vision ACD canon, but has a few sly jabs at the Sherlock Holmes fandom (including the writers themselves) along the way. Let’s look at some concrete examples:

John Watson’s wife:

In BBC Sherlock, the woman we know as Mary Morstan has no fixed identity. Her name is taken from a dead baby; she is not originally British; she is an ex-mercenary and killer; she is variously motherly, friendly and threatening; she shoots Sherlock in the heart – or does she save his life? In Series 4, her characterisation is more unstable than ever. She is a romantic heroine, a ruthless killer, a selfless mother, a consummate actress, a wronged woman, a martyr, an ever-present ghost, and the embodiment of John’s conscience. She is also the manifestation of the Sherlock Holmes fandom’s speculation about John Watson’s wife: did he have one wife, or six? Was she an orphan, or was she at her mother’s? When did she die? How did she die?

Ultimately, however, if you hold BBC Sherlock up against ACD canon, it highlights the fact that so many Sherlockians have tried to compensate for: in order to reconcile the irregularities in Mrs Watson’s story as narrated by Watson, she would need to be a secret agent actively hiding her identity. Examining BBC Sherlock against ACD canon makes us apply Occam’s Razor – the idea that the simplest explanation will always be best. John Watson’s wife was only written into the story because homophobia was so pervasive at the time that ACD was writing that his characters – and by extension he himself – would have been suspected of ‘deviance’ if there had not been a layer of plausible deniability in the shape of a wife.

And there you have it: the central problem of Mary Morstan/Watson, in both ACD canon and BBC Sherlock – she shoots Sherlock in the heart – or does she save his life? Look at ACD canon again. Does Mary Morstan’s engagement to John Watson hurt Sherlock Holmes, to the point that he replies, at the end of SIGN, “For me, …there still remains the cocaine-bottle”? Or does Mary Watson save his life? In the nineteenth century, suspicion of a romance between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson could have meant imprisonment or even hanging; many men suspected or accused of same-sex relationships chose suicide rather than total disgrace. Mary Watson’s presence provides Holmes and Watson with a lifesaving alibi.

Let’s have a look at this against the criteria for a ‘re-visionary fiction’:

Challenges the idea that Watson ‘told things as they really were’ – instead, it introduces the idea that Watson deliberately obscured the facts of his and Holmes’ partnership

Keeps the pre-text Mary Morstan constantly in view – a startling contrast, which rather effectively comments on the position of both women and queer people in the nineteenth and twenty-first centuries

Enables us to abandon our “restricted and conventional ways” of reading the original – if it makes no sense for Mrs Watson to have existed in ACD canon, then the reader must radically reconsider Holmes and Watson’s relationship; no longer ‘just’ a friendship, but a lifetime’s commitment, as close and loving as a marriage. BBC Sherlock encourages this re-visioning by setting Mary up as a rival to Sherlock; by having her attempt to get rid of him; by highlighting that she both kills and saves him. It re-casts Sherlock Holmes as the dominant romance of John Watson’s life, in every version.

It causes us to see parallels and contrasts between the two time periods: the societal homophobia that made Mrs Watson a necessity in ACD canon has largely gone in modern Britain. But BBC Sherlock hints at a profoundly closeted bisexual John Watson who strives after a ‘normal’ wife who “wasn’t meant to be like that”. The continued presence of a Mrs Watson very effectively shows us that societal attitudes are not as profoundly different as we may think.

BBC Sherlock shows us how the existence of a Mrs Watson has been written not only into the [hi]story of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, but into the fabric of society: Sherlock Holmes is a great man, but God forbid he should also be a happy, human man, in a loving relationship with another man. The cultural script has been written: the great figures are either straight, or they are nothing. There is always a wife.

As discussed above, the presence of Mrs Watson is also important politically and culturally. It draws attention to the total lack of agency for nineteenth-century women, and to the restrictive narratives imposed on female characters in today’s culture. It makes terribly clear the extent and dangerousness of the homophobia in nineteenth-century Britain. It highlights the fact that there are still countries today where people are forced to hide their sexualities for fear of being imprisoned or killed.

The Watson baby:

In BBC Sherlock, the woman we know as Mary Morstan is revealed to be pregnant on the Watsons’ wedding day. In ACD canon, Watson never mentions a child from his marriage. In Holmesian speculation, plenty of children have been suggested for Watson, especially since it is often posited that he must have had more than one marriage (that Watson might be infertile is not something the proponents of the ‘Three Continents Watson’ school of thought often like to suggest).

As a re-visionary fiction, then, BBC Sherlock forces us to examine the source text: in a time when reliable contraceptive methods were virtually non-existent, why did John Watson and his wife never have a child?

The options, broadly, are:

Mrs Watson was infertile (if Watson only had one wife)

Watson was infertile (if he had more than one wife)

They didn’t have sex, either due to ignorance (but Watson was a doctor…) or reluctance

Mrs Watson only ‘existed’ because societal homophobia made her a necessity (see above).

John Watson:

In Series 4 of BBC Sherlock, John behaves in an unrecognisable manner: he beats Sherlock bloody, so that his eye is still bloodshot some little time later. This is said to be due to the pain of losing his wife, and the fact that her death is Sherlock’s ‘fault’.

Viewed as re-visionary fiction, as metafiction, BBC Sherlock here satirises the idea of the ‘deutero-Watson’ which has existed since Ronald Knox wrote his Studies in the Literature of Sherlock Holmes. It also, however, critically examines the fact that, in ACD canon, there are (at least) ‘two Watsons’: one, the narrator, seemingly the most reliable and loyal of fellows, straight (in all senses) and true, good in a fight; and a second, the ‘true’ John Watson behind the narration, the man we discern when we look beyond the surface of the tales. A man who is devoted, above all, to Holmes; prepared to adopt Holmes’ habit of ‘compounding a felony’ to follow the idea of justice as opposed to law; prepared, in fact, to break the law if Holmes thinks it right; prepared to abandon his wife at a moment’s notice, when Holmes calls; prepared to alter all kinds of details in his stories to protect their participants. (Also, presumably, a bit of a joke about the accidental ‘dual personality’ that ACD gave his Watson by naming him James and John on different occasions.)

Looking at ACD canon through the lens of BBC Sherlock, the entirely unreliable nature of Watson as a narrator comes to light, but the enduring feature of his stories – his love for, and loyalty to Holmes – provides the obvious answer to why he should be so unreliable. Watson may be ‘two people’, but he lies, he breaks the law, he abandons his wife and his patients for only one person: Holmes.

Ultimately, the reader understands that they have been lied to, because the truth would have been impossible to tell at the time ACD was writing. Famously, the final story in the Sherlock Holmes canon, The Adventure of the Retired Colourman, ends with the words, “some day the true story may be told.”

If BBC Sherlock is seen as re-visionary fiction, Series 4 of the programme becomes a representation of the artificiality of the construct that we think of as BBC Sherlock and – viewed through its lens – ACD canon becomes visible as an equally artificial construct, filtered through the writings of an unreliable narrator and governed by the societal and cultural imperatives and prejudices of its time.

Every trick has been employed in Series 4 to highlight its artificiality: lack of coherent structure, temporal uncertainty, incoherent character arcs, introduction of a deus ex machina character, fluctuations of genre, and members of the crew actually appearing on screen. Just as in Hawksmoor, the ‘case’ of Series 4 defies solution. BBC Sherlock and Hawksmoor are both postmodern detective fictions. We have been told that this is ‘a show about a detective, not a detective show’. The form of the show, like the form of the traditional detective novel, leads us to expect a neat, tidy ending, explained carefully by an all-knowing figure of authority. The makers of BBC Sherlock, however, have done everything they can to pantomime a lack of care for, or understanding of, their own show. They have simultaneously inserted themselves into the story (Mark/Mycroft; giving varying accounts of when/how Series 4 was written; lying and saying that they lie) and withdrawn the ‘grand narrative’, the fiction of the omniscient narrator.

Why?

For over a century, ACD canon has been read in the same way: as the most archetypally logical detective story available to us. The fact that the canon is a huge mess of inconsistencies, requiring the collective effort of thousands of people to pick away at, is typically explained by the idea of an omniscient but uncaring storyteller: Arthur Conan Doyle.

This is particularly ironic for a fandom which supposedly wishes to disavow the existence of an author at all.

And yet, the problem is, if you don’t slip into extra-universe speculations on ACD’s attitude to Sherlock Holmes, you have to face head-on the conclusion that Watson is a very, very unreliable narrator indeed.

And you have to face why.

@devoursjohnlock @garkgatiss @221bloodnun @tjlcisthenewsexy @may-shepard

#sherlock meta #hawksmoor #bbc sherlock #acd canon #historiographic metafiction #postmodern detective fiction #hawksmoor17

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bugheadfamily · 6 years ago

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Graphic by: Katie ( @betty-cooper )

This week the spotlight is on Sarah ( @onceuponamirror )! Click the read more link below to get to know our member!

Spotlight by Mila, @jughead-jones

SARAH | @onceuponamirror

Name: Sarah

Age: 25

Location: California

Any other languages aside from English people can contact you in?: alas, nope.

Favourite Riverdale characters and ships?: I actually enjoy most of the characters, but I know I would like all of them better if the writing actually was focused on characterization, lol. But obviously I quite like Bughead. And then honestly I like all of the Veronica ships. I also like Choni but i think the writing could’ve been a lot better.

Favourite moments from S1 & S2?: Betty repeatedly saying “what’s my name” to Alice was really powerful and one of the moments that sold me on the show early on, especially in the acting from that scene, and then 1x07 was a really wonderful exploration of a broken relationship between father and son that was still fill with a lot of love despite how painful it was. The family/character moments early on were strong. In s2….the acting continued to be pretty good, and the addition of totally campy things like Papa Poutine and his son Small Fry were the wacky kind of delight I seek from riverdale.

What are your hopes for S3?: consistent characterization, and hopefully some fun weirdo hippie moments.

Other fandoms you’re into?: I was in the Once Upon a Time fandom for a long time. But that show has ended now.

What are some of your favourite movies/TV?: The Americans, The Good Place, The Office, Parks And Rec, Glow, Orphan Black, The Bold Type, Queer Eye, Jane The Virgin, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

Favourite books?: All About Love by Bell Hooks, A Thousand Eyes: Media Technology, Law, and Aesthetics, Kafka On The Shore by Haruki Murakami, and Just Kids by Patti Smith. I need to find more fiction to read, but don’t really know where to start in terms of what I’m really looking for.

Favourite bands/musicians?: FLEETWOOD MAC!! I think anyone who has visited my blog even once probably knows this lmao.

If you could live in any fictional world which one would you choose and why?: uh, Harry Potter universe, no contest. I mean, given that I too would be a witch anyway.

Favourite food?: mm. Probably tomatoes. Love a good tomato.

Favourite season?: autumn!!!

Favourite plant?: oh this is hard. I do love a big split leaf monstera!

Favourite scent?: eucalyptus.

Favourite colour?: blue.

Favourite animal?: also hard. Have you ever heard the sounds a porcupine makes tho?

Are you a night owl, an early bird, or a vampire?: fun combo of a person who likes to stay up late who also naturally wakes up early. But on my good days, I’m an early bird.

Place you want to visit?: Japan! Or spend more time in Scotland than I’ve had before.

Do you have pets? If you do, tell us a little about them: I have a cat. She’s afraid of her own shadow and I love her dearly.

Tell us a little about yourself?: I am a freelancer in a creative field, I’m a big fan of analysis (show or writing or otherwise), and my interests tend to rotate around the arts and plants.

Fun or weird fact about you?: I am a very, very good whistler. Can do all the vibrato stuff.

Asks for fanfic authors:

How long have you been writing?: since I was like 11-12, honestly.

Which is your favourite of the fics you’ve written?: Heart Rise Above is very dear to me for many reasons, but beyond just the satisfaction of telling the story in way I’m happy with, it also represents a huge number of goals that I met. I’d never written anything multi-chapter, let alone over 100k. It helped me get over a lot of my insecurities.

Favourite fic/chapter/plot-point/character you’ve ever written?: HRA is prob my favorite fic, my favorite chapter was probably the “water” chapter (17 i think) in HRA, my favorite plot-point is something from A Deed Without A Name so i shouldn’t say yet, and my favorite character….I mean, I’m fully aware that I basically came up with an original character in JB. She appears in most of my fics because I firmly believe that she better rounds out Jughead and my goals for him, but she’s also become a solidified figure in my mind. And I’m fond of her; or at least, my version, lol.

Which was the hardest to write, and why?: Stealing Home has been a continued challenge, just because it’s such a different universe from canon while still needing to maintain consistent and recognizable characterization. But I like challenges!

How do you come up with the ideas for you fic(s)? (examples: Do you draw inspiration from real life? Listen to music? Get inspired by TV/movies?) Do you have an process to your writing?: I listen to a lot of music while I write in order to tap into the tonal atmosphere I want to build, but a lot of my ideas start with a vague concept, sometimes launched by a single image I saw (HRA was inspired by a set photo) and then I work backwards to a larger theme and intent. My process depends on the story, but often I make a lot of “beginning, middle, and end” notes to myself for where each character has to go and what has to happen, plot wise, at those stages.

Idea that you always wanted to write?: I’d like to one day tackle a long, multi-chapter story that spans only 24 hours. We’ll see!

Favourite character to write?: Jughead, I think. But i also really like writing Veronica, turns out.

Best comment/review you’ve ever received?: @village-skeptic leaves incredibly detail-oriented reviews, and I eat them up. But then I’ve had some personal messages about the impact some stories have on them and it just — wow. That’s amazing. It means so much to me.

Best and worst parts of being a writer?: It’s incredibly satisfying to escape into someone else’s woes or joys sometimes. Especially when my mental health takes a toll on me, being able to work through some of my own feelings via another character is…cathartic. The worst is that it’s a vulnerable thing, sharing that side! Even if you don’t consciously put those things into your writing, any time you put anything creative out to share with others, it’s nerve wracking. Validation is a tricky thing.

Do you have any advice to offer?: Ultimately, be passionate about why you want to do something. All other doubts and worries and insecurities will be outweighed if you understand why you’re doing what you’re doing.

This is the seventh instalment of Bughead Family’s Member Spotlight series. Each week, a member’s url is selected through a randomizer and they will be featured in a spotlight post. In order to participate, please join the Bughead Discord (more information found here). Thank you.

#bughead #riverdale #bughead family discord #member spotlight

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the-best-is-still-unwritten-blog · 8 years ago

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A Brief History... of My Restored Love for Fiction

In reading A Brief History, I was borrowing a book from my aunt to help me get through my summer waiting at airport terminals and taking cute but lonely trips to bars and cafés in between the sights and scenes of continental Europe. Truly, I was exposed to beautiful stories of complex cultures, within themes of poverty and wealth disparity, the growth of gang culture interlinked with politics, cultural divides of tradition and modernity and of American idolisation and western tragedy. Mystifying prose adjoins a showcase of beautiful stories, rich personalities, Caribbean sexualities and refreshing female and queer perspectives. This book is a giant, encompassing a vast range of modern problems from the social, cultural, economic and political, which allows it the grand promise of giving every reader a different story or a fresh understanding. Its context is historically accurate even if such an account is highly fictional; this means it sheds light on modern racism by crudely and hilariously accepting and publicising the true struggles since colonisation, slavery, independence and globalisation.

A Brief History of Seven Killings’ plot revolves around the 1976 failed assassination attempt of ‘the Singer’, who we know to be, Bob Marley. It offers this story through the eyes of ‘slum kids, one-night stands, drug lords, girlfriends, gunmen, journalists and even the CIA’ but in reality, offers much more. Through a number of books within the book - 5 to be exact - each set in a different time and to multiple locations, stories and characters, a most vivid picture of life, never mind Jamaica, is painted. Truly, the patient reader will come to feel for this as real as any textbook history.

One of the most annoyingly effective writing styles for fleshing out such a robust narrative is found by telling the story through a myriad of characters. In such an ambitious book, having characters juxtaposed against another but ultimately linked to the life of Jamaica’s almost omnipotent Singer, the book arrives at a place of joy for a reader who revels in the complexities and variations of humanity. Not just being inclusive and varied, this joint narration gives the reader added reason to continue on through another chapter, another voice, another story, another Jamaica and another world. Flicking through tense visceral scenes from one character to the next, James offers little time for recovery. Sometimes the divide in characters appropriately furthers the cleavages of scenes and scenery, from heavily cocaine-fed patois to the Americanised yuppie talk of white visitors, from those who live in the Bush or the Ghetto and ‘don’t speak good’ to the suburban and apologetic middle-classes who do. Jamaica is provided as a divisive and divided place, with different and diverging ideas of how to change or flee the so-called ‘shitstem.’ This review will feature a selection of my favourite characters and scenes and thus contains some mild spoilers, I hope this review is taken as my personal understanding and critical analysis as I refute to be asserting anything as fact.

We are introduced to Bam-Bam early, in the first story of the book ‘Original Rockers’, he is one of a number of Jamaican gang-men narrating the book alongside Papa-Lo, Weeper and Josey Wales. Having grown up in what he describes as ‘the Ghetto’, he has been scarred by the inequality of poverty, his life subverted into crime early through desperation, anger and madness. In his first chapter he argues that within poverty is madness and that reason is only for the rich. “Madness that make you follow a man in a suit down King Street, where poor people never go and watch him throw away a sandwich, chicken, you smell it and wonder how people can be so rich that they use chicken for just to put between so-so bread, and you pass the garbage and no fly on it yet and you think, maybe, and you think yes and you think you have to, just to see what chicken taste like with no bone. But you say you not no madman, and the madness in you is not crazy people madness but angry madness, because you know the man throw it away because he want you to see. And you promise yourself that one day rudeboy going to start walking with a knife and next time I going jump him and carve sufferah right into him chest” – Bam-Bam.

Bam-Bam is less than pure, his vision of the world blighted by extreme poverty and a thirst to distance himself from the parents who were viscerally killed in front of him during childhood. Such brutal scenes of violence are further brutalised through the poverty they are set in, as he holds on to his Clarks throughout his loss it becomes an apt metaphor for his hardened clinging to materialism in spite of serious emotional turmoil. His passages succinctly signify the subtlety of violence and the inevitable initiations to gang culture, a lifestyle factor that ultimately leaves him vulnerable, cocaine addicted and imprisoned during various scenes of the book. Personally, I found Bam-Bam one of the least lovable characters, his fiendishness of cocaine and the homophobic suppression of his sexuality offer a number of ways this character denies himself dignity and understanding. His envy of wealth, and the selfishness associated with it, should however be universally understood. In a world where poor means bad and rich means good, he is trapped in poverty (badness) with no education (escape) and understandably, he sees crime not just as the only realistic opportunity to change this but an obvious reaction to his experiences and upbringing.

From PNP to JLP, Cuban to American, Jamaican to Syrian, Black to White, Young to Old, Expat to Local, Traditional to Modern, Rastafari to Baptist, Religious to Apathetic, Poor to Rich, every vision of Jamaica reeks of the competition of peoples and cultures, ideas and morals. Contemporary issues here are far from ignored, with a seriously post-colonial and modern examination of race and racism presented and the understanding of this reproduced in a multi-ethnic but unarguably black culture, providing us with something as lovely but as barren as mountain scenery, beautifully stark but unarguably pure. Although overt racism has become almost unacceptable, the remnants of black oppression are still found in the global regime of idealising western beauty standards which leads to microaggressions of shadism, even (or more likely especially) in lands with majority black populations.

“Sometimes I think being half coolie worse than being a battyman. This brown skin girl look ‘pon me one time and say how it sad that after all God go through to give me pretty hair him curse me with that skin. The bitch say to me all my dark skin do is remind her that me forefather was a slave. So me say me have pity for you too. Because all your light skin do is remind me that your great-great-grandmother get rape.” – Tristan Phillips

Naively, I did not realise the Marlon James was a queer Jamaican, but in the BBC one documentary, much of his struggle during his youth and time in his homeland was blighted by his inability to accept his sexuality. Still, I wouldn’t define this story as a ‘queer read’, but it wholeheartedly offers broad and unexclusive understandings of masculinity and feminity. Weeper is another Jamaican gangbanger in Copenhagen City, his sexuality can be seen as fluid, Bam-Bam confirms for us that Weeper has homosexual tendencies when we learn of his time in jail.

“Three year in prison and a dick is just another thing to put up your ass.” -Weeper

Accordingly, there is still inequality and a binary to be found in these acts. Bam-Bam, with his hyper masculinised heterosexuality, sees this as a somewhat acceptable due to the unavailability of women, but this is only ever for the active (or dominant) partner.

“Don’t think the man who getting fucked must be the bitch. I shut him mouth and show him what my hole was for. I love you – I don’t mean that, I said.”

Weeper is clever and somewhat inspirational, a ‘ghetto’ kid with a love of books and self-education. His type is doubly conflicted in that he will be seen by many as a samfie gangster, but by his own friends as a bookworm. He leaves Jamaica in 1979 and becomes head of a Manhattan gang that distribute crack cocaine. Here we rediscover his sexuality and his awareness that what he enjoys and wants is not glorified or acceptable, whether in New York or Kingston.

“Think like a movie. This part you put on your clothes, boy wake up (but boy would be a girl) and one of you say babe, I gotta go. Or stay in bed and do whatever, the sheet at the man waist but right at the woman breast. Never going to be a movie with a scene like this bedroom ever. Don’ know. Could go back in bed right now, move in under him arm and stay there for five days […] Lookin’ at what just went up in me last night. Bad man don’t take no cock. But me not bad, me worse”

Another gay character, John-John K is introduced as the story weaves from the broken idyll of Jamaica to the greyer and dirtier New York, where a heap of Jamaicans, like many others, have resettled in an attempt to flee the ‘shitstem.’ But unknowingly, they often find a wholly shitter system with bland food and harsh weather, but the bonus of being anonymous, away and blissfully alone. Here we find good and bad, some characters find traditional employment and culture, often worth the not-so-subtle racism of American society. Others use their lack of morality (or privilege) and connections to the dark side of island life to sell crack cocaine in the neighbourhoods of New York that don’t defy the term ‘well-heeled’ - but much like their prostitutes - would be better described as completely fucking broken heeled. In the fringes of the city, in large derelict brownstone tenements, the crack epidemic of the eighties thrives on the souls of the city’s unloved. While in Jamaica the dabbling of cocaine is to the odd toot on the pipe in New York. This is the end of our story, the effects of violence and drugs complete, Josey shoots out every junkie in a crack den, including one unlucky mother interrupted with a bullet while giving head too busy multitasking with childcare and professionalism to realise. This chaotic scene is beautiful in its Irvine Welsh style brutalism, as Josey goes on a kill streak, oblivious addicts rummage through rubbish for needles in a bacground of desperate prostitutes and their johns being murdered gangland style, too busy with their work or pleasure to pause for final words.

Organised crime in Jamaica fuelling local and political rivalries are not played down and gangs in opposing communities and territories are stuck to a backdrop of serious poverty and marginalisation, seeming all too established to destabilise. Their exploitation by political groups and American influence seems to further fuel their need to escape while contradicting itself in the same breath: How is Jamaica really independent when everyone decent dreams of leaving or has already left? This desire reinforces the motives and storyline of our lone female narrator Kim, who readily pins her hopes on her one night stand with the Singer to result in visa rights and a general rescuing/escape plan. Kim, truly an independent woman, seems to contradict herself in externalising her ability to leave through her sexual and personal relations and never her own volition. Kimmy’s story has it everything it needs to earn her both my respect and my pity. An educated girl, her snobbishness is a reaction to her delicate and insecure nature in a country where she is neither pale nor dark, neither rich nor poor. She is cultured and intellectual, occupied in her fiery mind is a bold sexual energy and she features in scenes of heart-wrenching betrayal, oppression and downright abuse, continually struggling to reinvert herself and repress the situations that shaped her.

Standing outside ‘the Singer’s’ property time after time, she hopes he will recognise her and rescue her. After accidentally witnessing the infamous shooting of Marley and almost killing her father in a retaliation to a beating she receives from him after he finds out about the liaison, she becomes bound to our main storyline and runs away to Mobay with a newfound persona, her new meal ticket (or plane ticket) becoming her white American lover, even though he openly has a family stateside. The failure is hard on the reader, but harder on Kimmy; in desperation she results in paying a hefty amount for her visa, in both cash and her sexuality, before founding a new life in the run down suburbs of multi-cultural New York. Somewhat ironically, it is this move that prompts a rekindling of Kim’s love for her native land, her avoidance and repression ends abruptly in a hungry visit to a Jamaican café and the shocking news of the death of the one of our familiar Kingston gangsters.

Our story is often one of hopelessness and of discontent with the status quo being corrupt politics and rabid cutting inequalities. Of race and class determining who we are and what we do before our personality, intelligence or ideals have even the slightest chance of doing this for us. This is a world where politicians are gangsters and gangsters are political. Escaping the struggles of a post-colonial society riddled with crime and corruption is impossible if it leads to the same again, only with a different accent and a paler face. Our ideas of identity and home are bound to things that are somehow ubiquitous, following us no matter where or how we run and hide. For Kim, running is futile if all we realise is who we aren’t or where we’re not from, no matter how long we stay or how much we change. As she stops for Jamaican food on the way home, a symbolic peace offering to her homeland, she is confronted with her past, one that cannot be erased no matter how many times she changes her name or how much she learns about contemporary American art.

Jamaica is a product of imperialist greed, in this time alone we are told a story of secretive American intervention and the covert operations of the CIA in their dreams to operate a global regime. Jamaica, an island completely changed through slavery and the empires of France and Britain, now faces a new face of imperial force, the United States of America. While the island is a product of brutal colonial histories, it struggles with globalised issues stemming from these same persecutors. Leaving behind racism, homophobia, ethnic and religious tensions the island is now to deal with the growing appetites of American consumers of cocaine as Jamaica serves as an important logistic hub for the Caribbean. Alongside organised crime we find guns, violence and misery. Maybe worst of all, Jamaica is plundered of its traditions, aspirations and ideals as it continues to carry the risk and violence of submitting to helping wealthier, whiter Americans get coked up. Whereas much of the beauty of Jamaica, found in the soulful lyrics of soca and the brilliant white beaches in tourist resorts are exported for a different audience, creating an anger and a disconnect between the internal and external fictions and realities of Jamaica. I guess like Weeper and Kim, Jamaica has been used, like most of us deemed ‘unlucky’ or even just desperate, we have been victimised and we have victimised ourselves. Turning to others for safety and salvation: Kim, Weeper and Jamaica have been failed, their weakness and desperation exploited for the benefit of those more powerful or maybe just more confident (but often more moneyed and paler). A Brief History is (defiantly) not Brief but this isn’t to be criticised; as this History could never be complete; these struggles are not over. There are to be far more killings, real and metaphorical, before it could ever be.

Thank you Marlon, for the education - and the entertainment.

#marlonjames #abriefhistory #bobmarley #jamaica #fiction #lgbtfiction #gay #caribbean #booker prize #marlon james #queer fiction #a brief history of seven killings

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