#that is one whole man whom i am wholly in love with

[e-louise-bates]

Recently I've been mulling over the way Faramir and Boromir are presented in the LOTR movies, and why I find even their brotherly relationship unconvincing (I'm sorry, Boromir fans, but I do). I feel that everything about Faramir in the movies is presented in narrative as though he is a lesser version of Boromir, and the big issue for him is that he's always trying to live up to his brother's ideal, and his father is always criticizing him and Boromir is always trying to build Faramir up. It isn't just that Denethor thinks of Faramir as a lesser Boromir, it's that he genuinely is, and he needs to come to terms with who he is (and I guess he sorta does that when he rejects the ring? but then fails when his father tells him to go retake Osgiliath? and then there's never really a satisfactory conclusion to his arc because he just gets healed and falls in love with Eowyn and decides there's hope for the future after all and everything's ok?).

Whereas in the books Tolkien tells us outright--Boromir is a lesser version of Aragorn, but Faramir is a lesser version of Gandalf. Faramir has the wisdom that his brother and father lack, and Denethor resents him for it, but Boromir respects him for it. Tolkien tells us that Faramir is certain that in all of Gondor there is no one like Boromir, and Boromir thinks the same (which I am pretty sure Tolkien means as Boromir thinks Faramir is the best of the best, but could also be interpreted as Boromir agreeing with Faramir that he, Boromir, is the best, which is kinda hilarious to imagine). Boromir is not always trying to build up his little brother, who is desperately trying to win their father's approval. Boromir recognizes the ways in which Faramir is superior to himself, the same way that Faramir recognizes Boromir's strengths.

Faramir in the books is a strong and capable leader of men (all of whom love him and are wholly loyal to him) as well as a mighty warrior, but his true strength lies in his wisdom. When he obeys his father's order to go attempt to retake Osgiliath, it is not a desperate attempt to win approval, but an acknowledgement that Denethor is still in command and he, Faramir, is bound by oath and virtue to obey his orders, even when they wrong. The quiet plea for his father to think better of him when he returns is a glimpse into the pain he feels at his father's constant rejection, but that pain does not control him, nor is it his driving motivation. Faramir's goal, in all things, is to be a man of virtue, even as Boromir's goal is to be a man of honor. Boromir finds that under the ring's temptation, honor breaks, and though he is redeemed it takes his death. When Faramir is confronted with the same temptation--a stronger one, even, as he has not spent weeks and months with Frodo as a companion and therefore has not built a relationship of trust and loyalty, and he has not heard with his own ears the strong warnings against using the ring!--virtue holds fast. Boromir redeems his own honor by his death, but by his life Faramir redeems the line of the stewards of Gondor, which is why he is able to receive the task of redeeming Ithilien once Aragorn is crowned king (and why he is actually a better husband for Eowyn than Aragorn would have been, but that's a whole other post).

All of this was lost in presenting Boromir as the superior-in-every-way elder brother, with Faramir as his shadow-self, who failed the same test with the ring but in a weaker way (and then passed at the last minute because ... Sam gave a moving speech about good in the world being worth fighting for and not giving up, and he decided that was a good reason to let them go destroy the ring after all?), and whose entire character was defined by desperately striving for his father's approval and never getting it, and then somehow just being ok at the end.

[fancifulplaguerat]

I have further spare Aglaya thoughts. Cannot stop thinking about how whenever Aglaya mentions her hatred towards Nina it's predicated on Nina's cruelty/disregard for others contrasted against Aglaya's lines like “To this day, I've been paying for my kind-heartedness,” “It's a pity that everyone sees an enemy in me. Such is the bias against inquisitors. I only wish to do good; not specific, targeted good, like that Clara, but overarching good,” “I am a humanitarian. My duty is to save people, not kill them. I only condemn a few to death for the sake of the many.” That “I've been paying for my kind-heartedness” and “It's a pity that everyone sees an enemy in me” just make my heart hurt for her because I do sincerely believe her. Yes she is cruel towards Clara and deceives Daniil but I've said it before I will say it again: 1) I love Daniil so very much but *everyone* warned him not to trust her and 2) nearly every Patho character is an opportunist and/or trying to act after being dealt and incredibly shitty hand, which often results in deception and cruelty towards others. Aglaya is no different in my mind.

Also a particular detail in her dialogue which caught my eye is when she remarks that, “For a moment, I thought [Block] was driven by the same feeling that I am: a great man, when unexpectedly betrayed by the people he loves, will often seek to fill the whole universe with his blind spite. Yes, the feeling is indeed familiar...” I wonder what this refers to. My first thought is presumably Nina, but I can't quite imagine Aglaya feeling betrayed by her? It seems like they were too opposed? Like. I have no idea if I can articulate this well, but: Nina and Aglaya seem so alike yet fundamentally different that I just imagine tension would be endemic in their relationship. Also the way Aglaya characterizes her in the quote “Nina was the embodiment of absolute evil. The charming, intoxicating, beautiful evil, the evil that can drive you mad. The graceful and elegant evil that is fast to capture anyone in its web—even those who stand up to evil till the very last.” She calls Nina evil constantly. It is the lifeblood of her motivation—to destroy what her sister created. But that betrayal lines makes me think about what sort of uncomfortable love one can only have towards a family member that they fucking hate, like Aglaya does indeed think Nina is evil but also she is her (little?) sister and presumably grew up with her and I doubt Aglaya could see her as just wholly evil. That entire mess. Just compels me, particularly in how it adds another aspect to Nina.

I often think about how Nina is this object of terror and adoration more than a character in Patho Classic. Even sometimes, in my opinion, more an embodiment of utopia as Simon is for creation. Everyone close to her or who merely knew her as Mistress absolutely reveres her, perhaps even more after her death (which I think is the point, but, I digress). So to me, Aglaya and Maria have the most interesting dynamics with Nina because only through them does Nina feel more "real" to me, insofar as a character can. The dichotomy between Aglaya and Nina nicely contrasts this to me. Yes other characters allude to Nina being terrifying and so forth, but Aglaya's declarations that Nina is evil aren't accompanied by any reverence or respect or adoration that often does other characters' discussions of her. And it's yes Maria idolizes her, but as a child idealizes their parent. That is entirely separate from other characters who appear closest to Nina in Patho Classic: Victor, Andrey, and Peter, all of whom presumably had some sort of romantic attachment to her (if to various degrees and requitedness). Maria looks up to her, and in her words, “shall become her, [...] shall overcome her...” Maria interests me in that vein, that she aims to surpass her mother, and thus her idealization is necessarily different than others' who solely worship her.

I did not intend to write that much but this is what thinking about the Kaina-Lilich women does to a motherfucker. Apparently.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Boromir for the character ask?

Yessssss my man! Boromir my love!

First impression

First, first impression when I was like 11 and in theatres seeing LOTR for the first time? I couldn't tell him apart from Aragorn lol - it was two white dudes with the same hair cut and facial hair!

More serious note, like most, when I was young, I found him a bit unnerving and even frightening. Then it shifted to no strong opinion either way and now, obviously, that's vastly different.

Impression now

Love him so much. The older I get the more I sympathise with him and what he was going through. All he had on his shoulders and the stresses of his position and the expectations his people had of him to be their stalwart defender against Sauron. Let alone the whole Family Dynamic.

He is a complex, wholly imperfect person and I really appreciate that about him.

Favorite moment

In the movies I'm torn between the bit where he's teaching Merry and Pippin how to sword fight and every Fraught Conversation He Ever Had With Aragorn (there were so many).

In the books I love his response to the Balrog being: I'm Gonna Fight it.

Gandalf: We're not fighting it.

Aragorn: No, he's right, we should fight it.

Boromir: drawing my sword! it's gonna happen!

Idea for a story

Not sure I have one off hand - obviously every iteration of Boromir Lives is a godsend to us poor mortals.

ahufflepuffhobbit will know where this came from lol - but I am enamoured with a story idea of Boromir and Aragorn and Eowyn being a power couple.

Boromir lives, somehow. Schematics aren't important. Comes to Rohan, so Eowyn is like: Oh Wow Yes. Both of these men are A+

And obviously Boromir would be like "yeah girl you kill that orc. I'll hold your mead." Aragorn would be like, "the two people I love are MANIACS who enable each other."

Anyway, let Eowyn be queen of Gondor!! She deserves it and two hot husbands!!

Unpopular opinion

Not an evil or bad man? He has nothing to atone for?

idk - I'm not sure I have one when it comes to Boromir. There are people who don't like him, but my general opinions and read of the man aren't super out of the ballpark.

Is my opinion that Tolkien undermined his own narrative purpose about love etc. by killing Boromir unpopular?

(My one like, "yeah I get it and think it's important to the story," is that Boromir's death shows the reality of the great danger they are all in and that no one is coming out of this unscathed and he represents those who went to war and didn't come home. All those sons and brothers for whom people buried empty coffins. It's an important role that is needed in the story. But Tolkien, stop killing off only people who have "done wrong".)

Favorite relationship

Merry and Pippin, obviously. The three of them have a fantastic dynamic and clearly they need to hang out together more often.

I also love the complexity and manifold layers of his relationship with Aragorn and we were robbed by Tolkien in not having a chance to see how that would have unfolded over the course of the books.

Because there is Boromir before some of the dire, insane shit the Fellowship went through together and Boromir after - and I wish we got to see that and how it impacted/informed/changed his relationships with people.

Favorite headcanon

He and Gimli are Bros! The only reason I didn't have this as "favourite relationship" (because it is), is because it's not strictly speaking canon.

But yeah, I headcanon that they bonded super quickly during the Fellowship and are just absolute besties. Boromir is best man at Gimli's wedding to Legolas. It's all great for everyone

[gormfullray]

I burn with hatred.

It is nothing like the burning of a campfire, which warms and nourishes. It is nothing like the combustion of an engine, which empowers and drives. It is the burning of a furnace: it destroys, it renders down, and when what it is fed is whole, is true, it refines.

It is a strange feeling to truly hate. I feel it grind on my humanity, decaying all which is good and whole, the kindness I could never share fermenting into indignant and impotent rage, but nonetheless it know it to be fact that there is nothing to be done but to indulge it, to kindle it ever onward. It is not a choice which was ever presented to me to make, the path of hate is my inheritance, and alone I shall never have the willpower to resist it, even if I wanted to.

I think this is how all hatred must be: fear, and hurt, emergent from no element of nature, but from the material circumstance of one's place in the world. For most who hate, it is a spoiled hatred, rusted metal and rotten carcass, composed of bias and lies; the materially self-interested hatred of the landlord for the homeless, or the materially deluded hatred of the fascist for the Other. My hatred, for the ruling class, is of no such composition; it is pure, like raw iron glowing hot. From where it has emerged is no different from the emergent hatred of the fascist, roots of alienation and desperation and isolation, but it is wholly unakin, for it is built on the indisputable foundation of materialist analysis, fueled and proven correct by the very structure of the world Humanity is coerced to remain alive within. Hatred is impossible without earnest conviction, and earnest conviction which breeds no hatred is evidently hollow.

I think that I hate is not good. It is sin for which I would pray forgiveness for, but I live beneath the eye of no god. I think I would rather live in love and peace, rather than seething in hatred and waiting in silence for war, but I have come to the conclusion that such is not a choice which can be made. The strong do not hate, for they do not fear; the brave do not hate, for the fire which burns in them is purer than any I may contemplate. It is the weak who hate, the powerless, the indignant. Hatred is a failure which refuses to accepts itself as such.

Much of what I write in this place is thinly veiled cries for help, or the desperate drive to leave some mark of my understanding of my suffering on the world, so that some portion of my struggle may remain if and when I succumb to it. This is not akin to that, because I suspect any may understand, atleast an inkling, of their fellow man's sorrow. Hatred is not like this, I do not think. Those who do not hate may be incapable of understanding why those who do so do, there may be no capacity in which rationality may be found in utter malice by those who live in love. Likewise, those whose hatred is perpendicular to my own will be more obviously incapable of understanding the nature of this: the fool who hates for the immaterial is unreachable by any rationality, to such an extent that to them my hatred has become minute in relation to my pity.

No, this is not a cry for salvation from my hatred, for I am contented in the purity of my malice for the archenemy, the owning class. Truthfully, I'm not wholly certain what this is. An indulgence, to some extent certainly, in that hatred, simply an opportunity to put on earnest display how far I have fallen from humanity; but in some small, twisted corner of my mind, I hope to find more like me. To find solidarity with those who hate as I hate, or even to find enemies in the skin of comrades to whom to direct my self-rightousness. This is not a healthy notion, it is destructive. Hatred is destruction, but that is hardly a novel notion.

[invisibleraven]

The more the merrier

A series of ficlets for @polyshipweek 2023

Day Six: Mythology AU-PeterPatterLina <-AO3 link

This is very loosely based on the legends of King Arthur, specifically the love triangle between him, Guinevere, and Lancelot, only making it polyamorous, and with a much happier ending.

All Reginald had ever wanted to be, his whole life, was a knight. To slay dragons, rescue maidens, go on holy quests, and serve his land. To go down in legend, like all the heroes of old. Of course, he knew it was not possible, given his situation was that of a poor farm boy with no education or training, but he wished it all the same.

He had no sword or lance, but a simple shepherd's staff. No mighty steed but a lame pony who was his dearest compatriots, but not good for jousting or rescuing maidens fair.

That all changed one day when he was out tending the sheep. He heard a far off cry-that of a woman, screaming in terror. He glanced at his flock, safe and secure, and then towards the nearby woods where the noises were coming from. He knew it would mean punishment should a single lamb be lost, but he took off running, nothing but his staff in hand.

There he found a large wolf, snarling over a woman dressed in gossamer and silk, her ankle caught in a tree root. He yelled and raged at the creature, swinging his staff at it until it slinked away. He knew it to be a foolish endeavour, but he needed to be brave, to protect this poor innocent who had fallen victim to nature. This was his chance to play hero, so he did so. Finally the wolf was far off, a mere dot on the horizon, and he turned back to the fallen lady. “Are you okay, miss?” Reggie asked, stooping down to free her caught foot.

“I am now, thanks to you, my brave hero,” she said, standing tall. Reggie held back a gasp at her stature, the almost ethereal quality to her. Her gown flowed in the wind, the colour of a quiet lake, all blues and silvers, reflected in her eyes, while her hair was as golden as the sun. She peered at him, and then smiled. “I can see that you are noble, kind, and true. If you keep hold of these qualities then you shall always have my blessing.” with that she kissed his forehead, and disappeared in a blast of light.

Reginald winced and rubbed his eyes, making his way back to the sheep-thankfully all there, and wondered if he had dreamt the whole thing. Yet he could feel a tingle of where the kiss mark was, and felt a sense of-confidence, of power, of luck.

And so it was that the next day a local knight came asking about him as a squire, a chance that Reggie couldn’t give up. He bid his family farewell and headed to the knight’s keep. There he learned all there was to know in regards to being a knight, the ways of the world. And it turned out, he was quite good at it. Almost unnaturally so. He often wondered after the woman whom he rescued, perhaps she had some sort of powers, and her blessing was literal?

And he remembered the words she had said to him, so he vowed to remain noble, kind, and true, just as she wanted.

This became complicated when he was called to be knighted by the king himself. Reggie had long dreamed of joining the Round Table, of serving King Lukas. The man was hardly older than Reggie himself but had already established himself as a wise and fair ruler. And he lived up to every bit of the legend.

Luke, who smiled at Reggie after knighting him on the rocky clifftop where he had found him, and helped defeat a bear. Who shared stories with him around the campfire when they went on quests and listened to Reggie’s in return. Who held him tight on cold nights under the stars, if only so they could keep warm. Who owned Reggie’s heart wholly for their time together.

But then they had to return to Camelot. The Grail had been retrieved, they were all gloriously tired, and deserved a rest. But Reggie would have been fine never returning, because he knew that as soon as they returned, Luke would no longer be his.

Because waiting back home was Luke’s queen-Julianna, Julie to those who knew her. Reggie had yet to have the pleasure. He held no malice towards her, he knew Luke loved her, as she loved him, and from what he had heard from the other knights, she was the best woman there was. Sweet, talented, and bonny to look upon. But no one person could be all they described.

Yet when he gazed upon the queen for the first time, the soft smile she gave him, her heartfelt thanks for keeping the king safe, the tiny giggle she let out at some joke or another had Reggie ready to hand his heart over. It seemed even the stories of the queen held no candle to the real person.

As the days went on, Reggie felt overwhelmed. The court was much different than life on the farm, or even the keep where he had learned his trade. He tried to read the books and scrolls in the library, but they seemed to turn him around even further. It was in this confused state that Luke found him one day. “I know it’s hard, my dove,” he said. “It was hard for me as well.”

“Were you not raised by your father to rule?” Reggie asked.

Luke snorted. “My father was a simple schoolmaster, my mother a weaver’s apprentice. I have not one drop of royal blood. I honestly wanted to grow up to become a bard.” He gave a wistful sigh at that, and Reggie could see it-there had been many a night around the fire where Luke had led his knights in song, his voice carrying through the darkness and bolstering all their spirits.

“Then… how?”

“I pulled a sword from a stone,” Luke offered in explanation. “After all the horrid prior kings, a wizard put it there, and said only the one true king could pull it out. I did so on a dare, and well, here I am. The wizard taught me for a bit, how to rule and be a good king, but then he went off exploring. He pops in every few years, but I had to learn on my feet. So I study, but it’s mostly Julie who I learned from.”

“The queen?” Reggie asks. And as if she was summoned, she enters, a book in hand. Luke gestures her over, whispering in her ear. She looks at him with love, and a bit of exasperation, but presses a kiss to his cheek before joining them.

“Hello Ser Reginald,” she says with a nod. “My darling husband says you may need instruction. My father was a wealthy lord, and he insisted I learn along with my brother everything that could be taught. I’d be happy to help you.”

Reggie tried to protest, he did, but the queen wouldn’t hear of it. So he spent many afternoons learning with Julie, others sparring with Luke, and many more with the both of them. Yes, he would say he was guardian of his sovereigns, but they still pulled him down onto the grass to picnic with them, still lay beside him as he read aloud, delighted in singing songs together.

Which is why he was now so conflicted. He knew his heart loved them both, but he could not act upon it. To do so would mean treason, heartbreak, and the loss of everything he had ever wanted. He knew the blessing given to him would disappear should he try to gain either of his loves for himself-such an act would not be noble. And there was no way he could have both-greed was the antithesis of being true. So he decided to suffer in silence.

Fate however, had other plans.

It was late, well past time to retire when he was summoned to Luke and Julie’s chambers. They had a small fire banked, candles lit, and worried looks on their faces. “Sit, please,” Luke urged. Reggie sat, and was almost afraid to look at them. Had they discovered his desire for them and this was to be his ousting from the kingdom? Was he being sent to another land for the foreseeable future? Was there a war coming he knew nothing about?

Julie gave him a small grin, and squeezed his hands with her own. “You needn’t look so worried abejorro, we have glad tidings.”

Reggie tried to smile, but he was sure it was a weak one. “Is it an heir?”

Luke chuckled. “No, not as of yet.” Then, with a smidge of doubt, turned to his wife. “Right?”

Julie tittered with laughter. “No tesoro, not yet.”

“Then good news do you have for me?” Reggie asked, noting that Julie had yet to let go of his hands. Or that Luke was reaching out to grip his shoulder, a smile on his lips.

“Do you truly not know?” Luke asked. “Have you not guessed?”

“I guess we need to be a little more obvious mi vida,” Julie smirked, then turned and pressed a lightning fast kiss to Reggie’s mouth. He squeaked, freezing, but then melted into the kiss, the sweet flavour and spark of white hot passion felt like the dawning of a new day, Reggie’s heart bursting with all the colours of the sunrise.

He pulled back, and before he could think to utter anything, Luke swooped in and captured his mouth for his own kiss. It was more playful, full of cheek, but then there was a swipe of tongue, and there was that daybreak feeling once more. Luke pulled back, offering Reggie an impish, boyish grin.

Reggie was flabbergasted, not knowing what was going on. But his lieges were staring at him expectantly, hopeful, and his lips were tingling, his heart pounding, his brain reeling. “I… I cannot.”

“Oh,” Julie said, her voice deep with disappointment.

“Do you not feel the same?” Luke asked, his voice the smallest and quietest Reggie had ever heard it.

“No, I adore you both!” Reggie responded. “But… I was told I had to stay noble, and true.”

“Who told you that cariño?” Julie asks. So Reggie sits them down and tells them the tale. How he has longed for them, but feels he would be betraying his promise to love either of them, let alone both.

“Reggie you have the largest heart of any man I’ve known. Have stood by my side through thick and thin, on every quest. If that is not the definition of truth, I don’t know what is,” Luke finally says.

“And don’t think I haven’t heard you stick up for those who cannot defend themselves,” Julie pipes up. “Or your care for every creature under this roof. How is that not noble?”

“Isn’t it selfish?” Reggie asks.

“Do you think us selfish for wanting you?” Luke questions. Reggie shakes his head so fast Luke wonders how his teeth aren’t rattling. “Then how is it different for you?”

“Reggie, you became a knight because you are all those things,” Julie assures him. “Not because of some blessing. But we would love you if you were still the poor boy on the farm using a stick for a sword and a lame pony as a noble steed.”

Reggie thinks it over, for a long time, sitting in silence as the thoughts tumble around his brain. Finally he reaches a conclusion, and reaches for his loves, pulling them in for as many kisses as he can handle-which turns out, was quite a lot.

He never sees the woman who blessed him, nor any great misfortune for being the love of the royal family. He instead sees a lifetime of adventure, and more importantly, of love, and that was worth any childhood dream or fairy blessing ever.

The stuff worthy of legends.

[violetnull]

I've started reading 'the Undying Archive' and I feel the need to talk about it. This book has a lot going on. Spoilers below the read more

'The Undying Archive' is ostensibly mecha sff, but most of it so far (about the first half) is entirely taken up by character stuff, following the protagonist, Sunai, as he navigates life as the chosen of a dead AI god in a nation that hates AI. Which, fair, the AI god that Sunai is the chosen of seems a bit like an all consuming bio-tech monster, something Sunai has some trouble coming to grips with. All of his loved ones, including the two men whom he loves and has loved, are devoted wholly to the god and it's memory, leaving Sunai to deal with his trauma surrounding the god and his sort of "Isaac from the bible" raised-as-a-sacrifice nature on his own. Or at least, he thinks he's on his own. That has been one of my favorite parts of this book: as it introduces more characters that have known him, his own self doubt and self hatred comes into question by me, the reader, even as he refuses to acknowledge that he does in fact enrich the lives of the people he loves, and is not in fact a black hole of destruction and misery as he is so willing to believe. The mecha stuff is also incredibly interesting, with the giant robots in question essentially being the reanimated corpses of other dead AI gods, piloted by people like Sunai, corrupted and chosen in the final death throes of these strange, unknowable machine intelligences.

There is stuff I don't love (the second-person narrative trick has been done better in recent years by others in the "experimental queer sff" track, ie tamsyn did it better), but the world is so fascinating and the characters so compelling that I'm willing to piece together the clunky shifts in perspective to put the whole story together. In particular, I think the part where Sunai is physically incapable of touching the man he loves without forcing them both to relive traumatic and painful memories is going to stick with me for a while. The prose in general is so rich and poignant, it really carries the story when things get messy and/or confusing. I won't lie, I'm also a sucker for gay angst and queernormative sff in general, and with so much of the best of the best in queer sff being dominated by (genuinely amazing and Kind Of Necessary) wlw protagonists and stories, it's really really nice to read a book about a queer man being put into Science Fiction Situations. I am but a bi man craving that sweet sweet mlm romantic angst, after all, and the closest I've gotten with my other favorite books I've read this year has been the wonderfully tragic bisexual political love triangle of Yskander in 'A Memory Called Empire' (honorable mention: 'Cemeteries of Amalo' and everything that Thara Celehar has going on, love that gay elf so much). It definitely won't be supplanting those other titles in the Vio's Faves Folder, but it has definitely earned a place on the list (so far).

[pepsi1]

Pepsi Grimm, an Introspection

"You know... It's funny. I could not handle the prospect of eternal existence. When I got to Hell it scared me more that I would be conscious forever rather than the torment I would have to put up with."

"...And so I designed Phoenix to break me out and programmed him to find a way to utterly destroy me. But his existence was only possible with a fragment of a fragment of my own soul which I ripped apart. A whole soul would have me become demonic when I escaped into life... A whole soul. I am still partially demonic and still human."

"Phoenix thought to make me wholly monstrous next, to try and drive out my soul completely... Not realizing him and his brothers still had a piece of mine. I became a monster, but my soul and sanity remained, broken but still there. I noticed changes in the robots mannerisms too. They no longer acted on the whim of their code. Rather, the fragments of my soul healed and became their own souls. I think my own healed too. And in a desperate attempt to evade conscious existence, I leapt into the void."

"At first I had a suit designed so meticulously that it made me invincible and on par with whatever gods or demons I could come across. I waited. Waited until boredom drove out the sanity of self preservation. Then I took it off. Exposed myself fully to empty, radiation filled void. I suffocated, died, then revived unto the heat death and big crunch of that universe. Waiting until absolute nothing could be the only thing that remained."

"A few times did I fall into a black hole and come back, a few times a supernova destroyed my body completely, but it always came back. I did not decay into nothing, even when i felt my atoms fade away and radiation disappear. I remained conscious in absolute nothingness and worst of all, my sanity returned. The mad man who I was I could no longer be. In a void of nothing, staying terribly sane for uncountable time because time ceased to exist."

"And then I woke up one day, on a rock meandering aimlessly in a new void. I saw the creation of this new universe but I also did not..."

"It was only 3 years until Phoenix found me in it, claiming it to be a direct parallel to our original home. 3 years after I had left. But I gazed into the sky and saw the formation of stars into galaxies into superclusters into destruction. I still see some of that..."

"I think I see it because time does not think me important enough to bother with my existence. When I asked how either of us got into the new universe, he explained himself capable of multiversal travel and that I merely "Arthur Dented" my way into it. A reference to a book series he fixated on."

"He is more soul than program now, but his code still requires him to torment and he cannot tell between the two. And so I let him experiment on me regardless of the pain. I had already lived and experienced much more then I wanted, avoided any afterlife in the vain hope to become nothing, and then I didn't. Rejected by that which has no intention. He seems to enjoy my compliance but hates it for my lack of reaction."

"When I die I no longer feel the pull of any domain for the dead. Death himself seems to ignore me and reapers run. I squandered my chance at proper death with my own actions... I have doomed myself to an existence I was desperately trying to avoid. Infinite and eternal."

"..."

"...And I have lost the few things that could make it bearable. I lost my sister as she was able to become nothing. Or, as Phoenix states, was wiped from all existence. And as such so has my whole family been destroyed... I guess they no longer have ever existed but I still remember what once was. I had love a few times that I lost though that is... harder to remember. I only know I held the feeling but not for whom."

"...I don't know if I could dare let such strong emotions take hold of me again. To love knowing I will outlast whoever I do. To hate when it will be such a fleeting experience as time continues. To enjoy life, knowing I will outlast it. And so I refuse to indulge in anything but pain."

"I reject my hunger and thirst by denying my body food or drink. I do not rest although I am so very tired. I challenge Phoenix to make him angry enough to be more creative with whatever torture he can put me through. I ignore Caleb and Bee in hopes to build their own hatred against me. I am on a mission I have already failed, a mission of self destruction. Not because I think I can accomplish it, but fear that anything else will feel worse off in the end when I survive yet again."

"To the unending, it is better to have never loved at all. Otherwise eternity will be filled with regret and pain."

[ddonovanrp]

Little Man Cub:

My son was two years old when I got news of his existence. At that point in my life, I never even knew it was possible for my kind to father children.. I had gotten the call after his mother's demise..her own mother had thought, from the beginning, that I had the right to know and had fought for that right up until the decision was her own to make.

The day I got the letter from that old Indian medicine woman, my entire life changed, and I swear only then did I know true and utter fear. The life I live was no place for children, and this one had been thrust into my life and in my arms. We were barely getting things together for our own freedom, and now I was expected to fight for another little being's freedom. [No pressure..]

I had no idea how to raise a young one, let alone be a proper father, or even how to keep this child safe. It's not like parenthood comes with instructions. Even the humans, who had been doing this for millennia, still managed to fuck it up.

His grandmother said she loved him, but she was an old woman who had no business raising a wild wolf child who's father was still in his prime. I was terrified..I had begged her to reconsider and to take the boy back, but she'd refused, not for lack of love. I could see the tired circles around the Indian's eyes and knew her well. She never set something lose that couldn't care for itself. Or in my case, give me care of a child she didn't believe would be properly cared for. This was a large milestone for not just myself, but for the Breeds as a people. It was, in deed, possible to procreate.

Since my son was two years old..I've raised him on my own, and done my very best to give him a life, and a father he could be proud of. I haven't always made the right decisions and we've had some bumps and scrapes along the way, but thus far, he's turning out to be a sharp little shit.

My son, whom I named Dash Emery, will have the best life I can possibly give him. With the help of an absolutely amazing girlfriend to be the mother figure to a boy who couldn't help the poor parents he was born to, he will have a decent life, if it kills me giving it to him. By the grace of whatever god governs us, this little boy just may make it out alright.

I want to thank you, Emilia Mason..for being the mother my son never knew. You didn't have to step in and take over that role, but I am so glad you did. Without you, there's no telling where we would be. You've tamed this lone wolf and gave a cub a family he never would have had otherwise. Without you, Dash and I both would have missed out on knowing the bliss of being loved truly and wholly for being just us. You've come in and taken over a role and you play it to the 'T' baby..no one will ever be able to do it as well as you. You are the perfect mother to a boy that isn't biologically yours, and you're an even better mate to a man who is less than deserving. Please, continue to hold this family together, and make us whole. _______________________ -> Letter to #Dash -> #Damian #Emilia

[never-was-has-been]

Yes, "Only we can help us." How? Because we are ALL divine within. We are ALL "sons" of (the nature of) God, the Universal Consciousness. Buddha, Christ, Patanjali, Krishna and many many others were all born to bring this message. We ALL have the Divine within us. Every one of us are aspects of the nature of God, residing within us as what we call a "soul" of the Universal (Soul) Consciousness. One is All and ALL is One. We have the power of the Universal consciousness within us. We are ALL divine and we ALL have the power to change the way we are now, this very nanosecond. This was the message Buddha had when he had a "colossal experience" of "cosmic consciousness"; which is the realization that the Divine Universal Consciousness is within us from birth. Jesus of Nazareth had that same experience that Buddha had and any others after him. He realized that his mission was to bring the gospel to the world where he lived. The word "gospel" means "Good News". The good news was Not that Jesus was “the” son of God; but that he was "a" son of God and that every living human is a son of God; "son" meaning the "nature" of God, an aspect of the Divine Universal consciousness ~Within~. Jesus was wholly misunderstood and put on a pedestal that he did NOT want to be put on! When he was quoted in the KJV and Catholic bible as saying he was "The son of God", that was a misinterpretation of the Greek scriptures translated to Latin and then English ~incorrectly~. The Greek scriptures quote him as saying, he was "a" son of God. The word "the" is italicized in the translated scriptures that we know of today ie. KJV, Catholic Bible, etc....not for emphasis, but because of language interpretation and interpolation. When the Temple elders threatened to stone Jesus for blasphemy (re: son of God remarks), he cited their own Hebrew Judaic scriptures that were written centuries before Jesus was born. (Saint John chapter 10 verse 30) Jesus says "I and the father are one"... And there are some people around him who are not intimate disciples and they immediately pick up stones to stone him. And he says "Many good works from the father I have shown you and for which of these do you stone me?". And they said "For a good work we stone you not, but for blasphemy because you being a man, make yourself God," and he replied, "Isn't it written in your law, "I have said you are gods? then if God called them gods, those to whom he gave his word, and you can't deny the scriptures, how can you say I blaspheme because I said I am "a" son of God?" (Psalm 82 verse 6: “I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High.")

There is the whole thing in a nutshell, the crux of the whole teachings of Jesus. We are ALL "sons" of God, all born with the inherent Nature of God, the universal cosmic consciousness within us. Again, the universal cosmic consciousness ..aka God. This is not referring to a gender or physical being. It is referring to human birth with the One consciousness Within. IF we ALL can realize this, then we can ALL Love each other implicitly, for as long as we live physically. I am a student. I am learning. From the Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali:

"The Soul does not love, It is Love Itself.

It does not exist, It is Existence Itself.

It does not know, It is Knowledge Itself...

How to Know God.."

"I turned to speak to God About the world's despair; But to make bad matters worse I found God wasn't there."

-- Robert Frost

Only we can help us.

[lqonew]

[meganwhalenturner]

A Defence of Rubbish

Peter Dickinson

“The danger of living in a golden age of children’s literature is that not enough rubbish is being produced.”

“Nobody who has not spent a whole sunny afternoon under his bed rereading a pile of comics left over from the previous holidays has any real idea of the meaning of intellectual freedom.”

“Nobody who has not written comic strips can really understand the phrase, economy of words. It’s like trying to write Paradise Lost in haiku.”

* * *

The above remarks, and a few more like them, have now haunted me for five years. They were part of a digression in a talk I gave to the 1970 Exeter conference on children’s literature, and if I’d realised then what a powder-keg I was throwing my fag-end of thought into I would have kept my trap shut. I’ve no wish to be type-cast as the man who likes rubbish. On the other hand I did (and do) believe what I said then, and what follows is a more serious attempt to formulate my ideas.

I have always believed that children ought to be allowed to read a certain amount of rubbish. Sometimes quite a high proportion of their reading matter can healthfully consist of things that no sane adult would actually encourage them to read. But I had not, until people started asking me what I really meant, attempted to defend my position or to think it out in any detail.

Definition: by rubbish I mean all forms of reading matter which contain to the adult eye no visible value, either aesthetic or educational.

First, I believe that it is very important that a child, or anybody for that matter, should have a whole culture—at least one whole culture—at her fingertips. We make no objection now to those adults who spent their youth going two or three times a week to the cinema regardless of the merit of the films shown. They have the whole of the Golden Age of the flicks at their fingertips down to the last most trivial B film and it has immensely enriched their lives and their outlook in a way which a diet which consisted solely of plums could not possibly do. Nowadays one can say the same about the pop song culture. There is good stuff on the discs, mixed in with an enormous amount of trash, but both of these are necessary to a child who is taking a serious interest in pop. The child may not realise that the interest is serious but when she grows up she will then find, with luck, that it has been and that she is the better for it. As one teacher expressed it to me at the conference, it is vital that children should have ‘all that stuff churning around in there’, and he rubbed his belly.

Second it is also especially important that a child should belong, and feel that he belongs, to the group of children among whom he finds himself and he should feel that he shares in their culture. Inevitably the group interest will be mostly rubbish. For instance, my son at the moment reads two football comics a week. I love comics, but by the standard of comics these are not much cop. Even so I do not discourage him because this gives him that essential sense of belonging to a group. To remove these comics or to attempt to discourage their reading in any way would be a socially divisive move. A child should feel that he is an individual; but he must not, if possible, feel that he is somehow set apart, especially by family taboos which are not shared by the families of the group to which he belongs. Obviously one can carry this point too far, but in the case of things like football comics I am sure that laissez-faire is the only sensible attitude.

Third I am convinced of the importance of children discovering things for themselves. However tactfully an adult may push them towards discoveries in literature, these do not have quite the treasure trove value of the books picked up wholly by accident. This can only be done by random sampling on the part of the children, and it is inevitable that a high proportion of what they read will be rubbish, by any standard. But in the process they will learn the art of comparison and subconsciously acquire critical standards, so that in the world they are discovering—even the world of football comics—they will begin to work out why one strip is ‘better’ than another and seems more fascinating and is more eagerly looked forward to than another. They may even argue about this with their friends and so make the beginning of an effort at rationalising their appreciation or dislike of cultural objects.

Fourth comes a psychological point. Children have a very varying need of security, but almost all children feel the need of security and reassurance some time. For instance, in those families where boys are sent away to boarding school it is often very noticeable that, in the first week of the holidays, the boys do not read just the books they read last holidays, but books off their younger brothers’ bookshelves. One can often tell how happy or insecure a child is feeling simply by what she is reading. And sometimes she may need to reread something well known but which makes absolutely no intellectual or emotional demand. Rubbish has this negative virtue, and I would be very chary of interfering with a child who felt an obvious need of rubbish.

My fifth point is more nebulous. There is no proof, or even arguing about it. But I am fairly sure in my own mind that a diet of plums is bad for you, and that any rational reading system needs to include a considerable amount of pap or roughage—call it what you will. I know very few adults who do not have some secret cultural vice, and they are all the better for it. I would instantly suspect an adult all of whose cultural activities were high, remote and perfect.

Sixth, it may not be rubbish after all. The adult eye is not necessarily a perfect instrument for discerning certain sorts of values. Elements—and this particularly applies to science fiction—may be so obviously rubbishy that one is tempted to dismiss the whole product as rubbish. But among those elements there may be something new and strange to which one is not accustomed, and which one may not be able to assimilate oneself, as an adult, because of the sheer awfulness of the rest of the stuff; but the innocence—I suppose there is no other word—of the child’s eye can take or leave in a way that I feel an adult cannot, and can acquire valuable stimuli from things which appear otherwise overgrown with a mass of weeds and nonsense.

I am not of course advocating a total lack of censorship. I have no doubt in my own mind that there are certain sorts of reading which are deleterious, and from which a child should be discouraged. Rubbish does not have this quality. It has absolutely no quality. It is neutral.

Nor am I advocating that children should be encouraged to read rubbish. None of the ones I know need much encouragement. All I am asking is that they should not be discouraged from reading it.

The question remains of the children whose diet appears to consist solely of rubbish. Obviously, as far as possible, they should be slightly weaned. But not totally weaned. And besides, if they did not have this diet they would not be reading at all, and in a verbal culture I think it is better that the child should read something than read nothing. And perhaps, long after the child is out of the hands of parents or teacher, the habit of reading—even the habit of reading rubbish—may somehow evoke a tendency to read things which are not rubbish. I know two or three of my contemporaries who were, by cultural standards, total philistines in their boyhood, but they used to read a considerable amount of rubbish and have now, from the habit of reading, become considerably more literate than I.

Copyright © Peter Dickinson 2002

[benjaminmoorepaint]

red: the color of...grantaire?

Figured I might do another meta post like the one I did for Marius to address the myths and misconceptions surrounding certain characters, so it's Grantaire's turn!

I'm sure we all know Grantaire quite well...a sensitive starving artist, with his Apollo as his muse, and a cynic who pragmatically points out the flaws in Enjolras's idealism, which they quarrel over.

Let's unpack that!

Grantaire is most likely middle class if not wealthy, he is certainly not poor. We don't know what he's studying (if he's studying at all) but he is nevertheless a quintessentially Parisian bourgeoise "student", much like Bahorel. "A rover, a gambler, a libertine..." As the foil of "severe in his enjoyments" Enjolras, Grantaire is a pleasure-seeker, indulging in the excesses that Enjolras disdains.

Again, though we don't know what Grantaire is studying (and I suspect he's just Bahorel-ing it) he's clearly an educated man, judging by the references he throws into his speeches, and he mentions that he once was a student of Gros.

So is he really an artist? He might have been an apprentice at some point, but it's clear he was not particularly enthused by it. After all, discipline is something that Grantaire…lacks. And because it's Grantaire, you can't completely discount the idea that he made it up just for a pun (though I do find that unlikely.) But it's a triple (quadruple?) play--it's important not to take this quote too far out of context because he's actually saying several things here.

It is a shame that I am ignorant, otherwise I would quote to you a mass of things; but I know nothing. For instance, I have always been witty; when I was a pupil of Gros, instead of daubing wretched little pictures, I passed my time in pilfering apples; rapin is the masculine of rapine. So much for myself; as for the rest of you, you are worth no more than I am. I scoff at your perfections, excellencies, and qualities. Every good quality tends towards a defect [...] there are just as many vices in virtue as there are holes in Diogenes’ cloak.

Gros was a well-known neoclassical painter of the time, and I believe Hugo's inclusion of him here is a jab at the neoclassicists, as Grantaire doesn't seem to care for him.

There's a pun! "Rapin"--term for a painter's assistant--is the masculine of "rapine"--to steal.

So he likely means he stole the apples intended to be painted for a still life, which fits his careless attitude... but he's ironically putting himself down for it too, and at the same time

putting his companions down, saying they're no better than him even if they do have more "good" qualities because each good quality has a corresponding downside, so what's the point, really?

You can see that even in this small sample of his speech that Grantaire often has layers upon layers of meaning in what he says. He's a smart guy! But that means you can't always take what he says at face value, as Hugo says, he's constantly "reasoning and contradicting" himself. So let me invite you further down into what I think his real meaning is here (though now firmly into the depths of my own conjecture, so others may have different interpretations.)

I would speculate that "the rest of you" who he professes to mock refers mostly to a specific person, you can probably guess who. After all, Enjolras is surely the paragon of virtue among them, and you could certainly argue that his good qualities edge on being flaws. I think Grantaire is right about that, and it's a sort of theme we see pop up again and again--the Bishop's generosity does hurt the women he lives with, Valjean's self-sacrifice hurts Cosette, and Javert is someone who's tipped all the way over to his virtues being vices.

But like, man, come on. Seriously. "I scoff at your perfections, excellencies, and qualities." Dude. We all know that you're obsessed with this man.

And you might notice that this is just a whole lot of Grantaire talking and talking over people, never letting anyone else get a word in. It's not a debate, Grantaire never actually debates anyone, let alone Enjolras. The idea of Grantaire debating Enjolras and making him see the flaws in his idealistic revolution is wholly a fandom invention.

The closest we get, really, is Grantaire trying to convince Enjolras to send him to the Barriere du Maine...and Grantaire doesn't come out of that looking so good.

“Do you know anything of those comrades who meet at Richefeu’s?”

“Not much. We only address each other as tu.”

“What will you say to them?”

“I will speak to them of Robespierre, pardi! Of Danton. Of principles.”

“You?”

“I. But I don’t receive justice. When I set about it, I am terrible. I have read Prudhomme, I know the Social Contract, I know my constitution of the year Two by heart. ‘The liberty of one citizen ends where the liberty of another citizen begins.’ Do you take me for a brute? I have an old bank-bill of the Republic in my drawer. The Rights of Man, the sovereignty of the people, sapristi! I am even a bit of a Hébertist. I can talk the most superb twaddle for six hours by the clock, watch in hand.”

I won't bother going too in-depth here since you're probably familiar with all this--Grantaire talks a big game and then fails to follow through. And we see one of two red waistcoats mentioned, neither of which are worn by Enjolras.

Grantaire lived in furnished lodgings very near the Café Musain. He went out, and five minutes later he returned. He had gone home to put on a Robespierre waistcoat.

“Red,” said he as he entered, and he looked intently at Enjolras. Then, with the palm of his energetic hand, he laid the two scarlet points of the waistcoat across his breast.

So yeah, it's actually Grantaire who wears red, at least canonically! I know their popular red/green color scheme comes from the musical, but it might be fun to reverse it sometimes...I think Enjolras would look great in a nice emerald green, and he'd be more likely to wear that, actually.

Why? A red waistcoat like would be a very obvious, in-your-face political statement--perfect for Bahorel, the other red waistcoat wearer, but Enjolras is actually a lot more reserved and less reckless than fandom sometimes makes him out to be. Wearing something that blatant isn't really his style.

The real question is, why does Grantaire, of all people, own one? Why has he read Prudhomme and the Social Contract and the Rights of Man?

Grantaire is not a super sympathetic character. He's a man of means, talent, intelligence...and he wastes those gifts and privileges on doing nothing, he has no aims in life, he does not aspire to do better or make the world better. He may be Enjolras's foil but I would also contrast him with Feuilly, who has spent his life dedicated to improving himself and the world despite the challenges he's faced. He's obnoxious to women, denigrates his friends for their beliefs, and is generally useless. He's given the opportunity to change and he squanders it. He's not so much cynical (because that's a belief) as he is indifferent, which is arguably worse. His indifference can certainly be read as symbolic within the group, their belief versus the apathy of the world.

But, layers upon layers...Grantaire does have a good heart hiding underneath all that. What I've been getting at all along here is that he does care; he may say he doesn't, he may even believe he doesn't, but he does, clearly, care. He says he hates mankind; he loves people. He says he scoffs at his companions; he admires them. He declares himself indifferent, yet he can't help but talk about the sufferings of the world.

Which isn't to say that simply caring absolves him of anything. Up to this point, he's still just been a useless layabout. What does absolve him (narratively speaking) is the first time, possibly the first time in his life, that he chooses to act. He chooses to take a stand. And this transfigures him, as Hugo says.

Grantaire had risen. The immense gleam of the whole combat which he had missed, and in which he had had no part, appeared in the brilliant glance of the transfigured drunken man.

At the last moment, he chooses to believe, and Enjolras finally accepts him.

One last thing: Grantaire never calls Enjolras "Apollo". Furthermore, he's actually the only one who couldn't have called him "Apollo". The only line where this nickname is mentioned is as follows:

It was of him, possibly, that a witness spoke afterwards, before the council of war: “There was an insurgent whom I heard called Apollo.”

Who could have called him that? Not Grantaire, he was fast asleep during the whole thing. So I choose to believe it was Prouvaire…he would.

[variousqueerthings]

ok macbeth the performance thoughts with spoilers on the way the production worked

I have never seen a macbeth version with so many scottish actors and it really leaned into it being fucking scotland! bagpipes! kilts! a whole party! lovely!

we'll start with david tennant. what really struck me was how inverse of richard ii I got the sense that macbeth was, specifically because of the dt performances -- I've seen versions of both with other actors, but there's something about getting to compare the same guy doing them. this especially since they both have the crown sitting uneasily on their head and I was interested in the comparative scenes where they took their crowns off, the whys and hows (and also ofc that richard is the usurped and macbeth is a usurper). where richard ii is like the sun in every scene he's in -- whether he's despairing or raging or mocking or being petulant or being loving, everyone's eyes cannot help but be fixed on him, macbeth is a sucking pit of traumatic exhaustion

the fascinating thing about dt's macbeth is that the sun therefore shines on other characters (especially malcolm and macduff, whom we'll get to), and macbeth seems to be from the first scene permanently in this deep pit, and exists nearly only to pull others into it with him. the most similar role is when he played "des" the serial killer, that's how utterly bleak he feels here, except here we know why he's in this place

considering how this show was very much centering itself around ptsd, and really leaned on macbeth coming straight from battle -- cleaning blood off his hands and arms in the very first scene -- and then into the woods where the wayward sisters speak of the future, and at the same time really leaned into the loss of a child that macbeth and lady macbeth are haunted by throughout (we'll get to that), one can't help but pity him, not as a man who might have been saved from being violent and awful to others, but as someone entirely shaped by the expectations already placed upon him as a man. he's already haunted by killings in battle, what is violence after that but more of the same?

lady macbeth and macbeth seem very very into each other and very much sharing the grief of the child, and so when their relationship deteriorates and they stop being in on the plot entirely together/have their respective breakdowns, it does feel sad. in some other life they might have been happy together, perhaps, but here they've wholly disconnected from each other. lady macbeth was played by cush jumbo and was sooooo perfectly regal and composed (right until she wasn't of course, but even that breakdown has something of the dignified about it -- out damned spot)! and again, they really leaned on the fact that she had lost a child, which is of course text but oh boooy in this one the child...

the fucking! child! so I watched it one day and my partner watched it another and we had a different kid actor playing, and I believe the actor on my night (from the sounds of things) managed to do a better job than the kid who played on my partner's night from the sounds of things. I mention this because the kid actor was playing all the kid roles. alone the various kids maybe don't have that many lines, but put together there's a fair bit of lines for a 10-11yr old to learn (in ye olde language) and the thing that the kid on my night managed was to really fuck me up. he was flipping intense. I am always ready for a kid to simply have some fun and do okay, especially with language and narrative that might be difficult to internalise, but he really seemed to get it! wow. one of the standouts. screaming and crying and covered in blood several times, I hope he's having the time of his life (I need to find his name)

the reason the kid played several kids was because he was haunting macbeth and lady macbeth!! whether fleance, or macduff's son, or the young soldier on the battlefield, or the witch/creature telling macbeth the prophecy about birnam wood and man not of woman born, this kid is also the child that they lost, and every time macbeth attempts to kill/successfully kills this child, he is also killing his own child, it's sooooo fucking good! meanwhile lady macbeth keeps hearing child's laughter and speaks directly to an invisible child when she's sleepwalking, no wonder she's losing her fucking mind!

especially as macduff's son/the scene with lady macduff where they first speak about his father being a traitor and then get killed was so very well acted, the actress for lady macduff was fascinatingly eerie and played as prescient in a way that never helps her or anyone at all of course

and now we come to the real suns of the play -- where macbeth is a black hole, macduff and malcolm get to shine soooo brightly, and generally I find that dt took something of a backseat to the largeness of other actors. this also includes lady macbeth, lady macduff, and the actor who played ross/ensemble (who lifted david tennant at one point with her big beautiful arms), although the former is something of an ongoing tragedy herself, and lady macduff/ross are more tertiary characters, but certainly when they were onstage they got to carry both so much of the levity and the big messed up emotions (not to say there aren't big macbeth scenes of course -- the banquet, the second time he goes to the wayward sisters especially)

you know how macduff sometimes get read from a trans pov, because "no man of woman born," well in this one as I said malcolm is a transmasc literal king! and they have my partner's favourite scene too, when macduff is informed by his kinsman that his wife and child have been killed, and malcolm tells him that he needs to take that anguish and turn it into a need for vengeance! and honestly, these two were my favourites of the show!!! and I think that was very intentionally done and very well executed. where macbeth flounders, they rise up, and in the final scene you really feel macduff also pitying macbeth as he tries to goad him into killing him. it's really dying with a whimper, and the play does not give any leeway on that, no triumph, no big banners, just... a sad story. malcolm becomes king with appropriate heaviness, and the last lines are spoken offstage (as were the first lines)

which on that note "tomorrow and tomorrow" was said so quietly and so choked with sobs and completely alone onstage, possibly my favourite rendition of that speech!

macbeth basically: local couple have trauma. many dead. trans king takes the throne

on the flipside: I don't think the binaural headphones worked very well at all. they did nothing that I didn't feel couldn't have been done better onstage (whispering/soliloquy asides/ambient sound -- can all be done in a live space), I felt somewhat disconnected from the space (I mean, I tend to put on headphones in order to disconnect from space, so it didn't manage to bring me into it), there was no way to manage volume and it was so loud my ears hurt afterwards, which was especially a shame during scenes with music, which was beautiful but hurt, the sound design was overproduced to the point that I sometimes couldn't hear what actors were saying over the background noises -- and sometimes that was the point, it did play with the idea that sometimes words are just for the characters or get lost in almost film-like speaking over one another and that's fine, but other times I definitely lost great lines in other noises (can you tell the 'tism affected the ability to deal with this?) it would get crackly when it rubbed against beards or people touched each other, and it never managed to justify itself to me as more than an experiment/gimmick

on the plus side I imagine the filmed version isn't going to have to suffer from this, because it'll be able to balance the sound far better + this sort of thing works onscreen where I don't think it did onstage. it was such a good production, it was just a shame the sound was designed for a movie rather than a stage

watched macbeth. many thoughts

[iheartbookbran]

Ok so actually my biggest problem with the whole “Daenerys will burn KL” theory—not even the Mad Queen Dany theory, which is of course very sexist for obvious reasons, but just like, the idea that Dany will ~accidentally~ ignite the wildfire in the city, burning it all to the ground. That, at first, doesn’t sound that bad, but the longer I think about it the more I hate it because tbh it doesn’t do anything for her character? And also… that fate for her is just down right cruel.

Like, the most frequent argument I see on why this would be at all satisfactory for Dany’s arc is basically that it would be a sort of lesson for her about the dangers of unchecked power and the real threat the Dragons can pose on humans and that she shouldn’t use them to fight against other people. And that’s all well and good, excellent message… except that’s not something Dany’s ever really needed to learn? Not anymore that her fellow rulers, which I will touch on more detail later, but in general Dany has seen what the abuse of power can do. Starting with her conflicting feelings regarding Viserys and how she recognizes that even though he was her brother and she loved him, he also abused his power over her as her older brother, her only family and her king; she feels guilt about the atrocities Drogo committed to the lhazarene and tries to help them; she feels so much guilt about not handling things correctly in Astapor that she decides to throw away all her plans to go to Westeros and instead stays in Meereen.

And about not knowing the true danger that her dragons can pose? I mean, this is the same girl that literally agonizes across several of her ADWD chapters because Drogon killed a child, and then takes the extreme measure of caging Rhaegal and Viserion to prevent that from ever happening again. I think she’s at least a little bit aware that the dragons can be dangerous, thank you very much.

Ok so this got long...

Anyways, the only time Dany legit uses Drogon to harm someone and not just as bluff was at the house of the Undying, where she was being attacked, and in Astapor… and like, lmao, that asshole Kraznys mo Nakloz and the rest of his slaver buddies deserved it. Don’t at me. Also, Dany’s hardly the only one with a big magical and deadly beast at her disposal, why didn’t Robb had to go through some horrifying traumatic incident to learn he shouldn’t use Grey Wind in battle to tear his enemies’ throats. Bran will be learning about the dangers of abusing power, but that’s linked to his magic powers and an actual reprehensible thing he’s doing, not the use of his glorified prehistoric dog to kill, which he’s done, just like Robb. By all means let the narrative hold Dany accountable for her mistakes… but her actual mistakes and not shit she has no control over, because she doesn’t have much control over Drogon or the other dragons even though she’s trying to, and that’s very obvious in her last ADWD chapter where she’s delirious and Drogon could kill her at any moment, and she knows that.

The other big argument people make for Dany burning KL (even if it’s by accident!) is that it will teach her about the price of war, that someone as young as her shouldn’t be leading armies and conquering kingdoms, and that fighting for the Iron Throne is not a worthy cause, and I feel like that misses the actual point of her story by a mile. First of all because a) Dany is hardly the only teenage ruler in the story and b) this is a fantasy medieval story, a lot of the characters shouldn’t be doing the things they do, aaaand yet. Also speaking of other teenage rulers with far more power that they should have—Robb and Jon, being the biggest examples.

Granted, Robb and Jon aren’t exactly successful during their time as rulers, they’re literally betrayed and killed by their own men (even if Jon will technically come back for round 2 of bullshit he’s too tired for). But the moral of their stories is not that they lost because theirs was an unworthy cause and they were stupid kids wholly unprepared for their roles. And I actually partially agree! They are just kids, including Dany, and they shouldn’t be responsible for looking after so many others and going to battle, but their cause is still just and worthy, even with all the mistakes they make along the way. Robb didn’t loose because he was wrong in demanding justice for his family or trying to protect the riverlands from the Lannisters and their minions, he lost because Tywin Lannister was a giant coward who couldn’t take him out in a fair fight.

Likewise, it isn’t wrong of Jon to try to incorporate refugees from beyond the Wall into Westeros. He’s not too stupid and honorable to do politics like his father (how I hate when people insult Jon and Ned like that), and while he did some very obvious mistakes that inevitably ended in a coup and in him dying, this is more connected to his inability to let go of his ties with his family (mainly Arya or who he believes to be her), and in isolating himself from his friends and the people he could actually trust.

I’ve always thought that Dany and Jon share a parallel narrative within the story, so while Jon is struggling with that Dany is faced with similar problems. She cages her dragons, that to her represent the only family she has left, and she tries to compromise with the slavers, marry a man she doesn’t love, pretend she’s ok with reopening the fighting pit. While she tries her best to rule wisely in Meereen, it all comes at the cost of betraying herself and her beliefs, so it’s no surprise when it all crashes around her and she’s betrayed and nearly killed. Ironically, it is Drogon who comes to rescue her.

If they are monsters, so am I.—Daenerys II, ADWD.

This is hands down one of my favorite Dany quotes from the whole series, and I hate that it’s been given such a negative connotation in the fandom, when for me it represents Dany’s humanity and compassion at the fullest.

GRRM has a knack for humanizing the ‘monsters’ of his story, for showing the good in the outcasts and the ugly and the scary. He embraces their ‘otherness’ and makes them the heroes of his stories; Arya, Bran, Brienne, Dany, Tyrion, Jon, Theon and many others are all compared to monsters or beasts at one point or another in the books.

Dany sees herself in her dragons, literal monsters in every sense of the word. Later on she faces Drogon inside the pit, and in that moment you could say that she accepts that ‘monstrous’ part of her, and in doing so she’s saved from her fate of dying at the hands of the men who would crucify innocent children and gleefully profit off of the suffering of their fellow human beings while watching them fight each other to the death for their own amusement. Now tell me who’s the real monster in this situation.

But shortly before that happens, Dany is able to see the humanity in Tyrion, an outcast who has been branded as monstrous and unlovable due to his disability all his life, a man who has come to believe in his abusers’ rhetoric about him so strongly that he’s started to act cruel and detached. She saves his life. She sees value in his life when few others would, because she cares.

I’ve always find it funny that the “dragons plant no trees” is—another—example fans use to argue in favor of Dany’s descent into Darkness™ because the actual scene goes like this:

You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros.

"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.—Daenerys X, ADWD.

Now am I the only one who finds it at least a bit relevant that it’s freaking Jorah Mormont aka Jorah the Enslaver whom Dany’s subconscious, at her literal lowest moment, utilizes to represent this particular thought, which btw I’ve always interpreted as Dany’s own self-loathing manifesting in her, and this is something she’s actually always struggled with—the idea that she’s not enough and she’s failing. Because above all things, even Westeros or the Iron Throne, what Dany wants is peace, she wants to plant trees.

When Dany made her descent, Reznak and Skahaz dropped to their knees. "Your Worship shines so brightly, you will blind every man who dares to look upon you," said Reznak. […] This match will save our city, you will see."

"So we pray. I want to plant my olive trees and see them fruit." Does it matter that Hizdahr's kisses do not please me? Peace will please me. Am I a queen or just a woman?—Daenerys VII, ADWD.

But of course the world doesn’t work like that, and so long as there’s Jorahs and Tywins and Eurons out there, men who would take the freedom of humans and submit them to their will, Dany can’t have the luxury of peace, just like Jon can’t have the luxury of belonging and family so long as there’s people still beyond the Wall who need his protection.

And I think that’s fine. It’s fine that Dany failed, it will help her develop as a character and realize that there’s no room to compromise with slavers, the metaphorical monsters of the story who do far more harm than the other more literal ‘monsters’ of the story. So that when she has to face down Euron Greyjoy—who btw, there’s a high chance he will end up stealing one of Dany’s dragons via Victarion using Dragonbinder… y’know, as in enslaving one of her children and using said dragon to inflict god knows what horrors, yet not many people ever consider this for some reason?—she will know. When she has to face down the Others, the magical ice fairies with no regard for human life, she will know.

That’s why I believe that it would make absolutely no sense for Dany to have to go through such a tragic and traumatic experience like burning a whole city even by pure accident, over something that’s either never been a problem with her character or she’s well into her way of learning anyways, so it would just feel repetitive. As I have pointed out, she’s already reached one of the lowest moments of her arc. Not saying there will be no other blows for her, and probably the destruction of KL will be one of them, and knowing Dany she will feel responsibility over it no matter what, but that doesn’t mean she has to be the culprit, intentional or otherwise.

[bistortion-29]

The reason why I enjoy hearing or reading about queer characters is that, it truly fascinates me. Not the whole 'how can they be gay thing' but the whole 'they are gay and they have a significant other.' Like these people didn't care. They loved another person truly and wholly without giving a single fuck. And despite the rules and norms of the society, they choose to love. I can never do that. I can never be that brave to risk everything else I have for just one person. They wrote letters, they allowed the world to know. And they didn't care.

Like the sonnets Shakespeare wrote for a mysterious young man. Like Oscar Wilde and Alfred Douglas. The letters between Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West. The letters between John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton. The letters between Emily Dickinson and Susan Gilbert.

I love the fictional characters as well. Who literally risk everything and overcome fears of their own to love. Alec was a shadow hunter and he fell in love with Magnus WHO WAS A WARLOCK and married him. Nico di Angelo who was born in the 1940s where being gay meant living on the streets fell in love with Will Solace. Henry was a freaking Prince, yet he wrote such pure, raw, unadulterated words for Alex. Jude went through so much in his life and yet he allowed Willem to love him. Ari and Dante lived during a time where being gay was fatal; Dante was attacked in the book and Ari's brother killed a prostitute after finding out that they were trans. Oliver came from a conservative family and still loved Elio. These couples would have had doubts and apprehensions but they still loved each other and didn't care.

Here are some iconic quotes;

"I must see you soon — you are the divine thing I want." And. "...it is a marvel that those red rose-leaf lips of yours should be made no less for the madness of music and song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days." Oscar Wilde to Alfred Douglas.

"You should not have taken advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent." Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens.

"I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia...you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it." Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf.

"Do I repine, is it all murmuring, or am I sad and lone, and cannot, cannot help it? Sometimes when I do feel so, I think it may be wrong, and that God will punish me by taking you away; for he is very kind to let me write to you, and to give me your sweet letters, but my heart wants more." Emily Dickinson to Susan Gilbert.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" Shakespeare.

"You could give me the past," he said a little sadly. "But Alec is my future." Magnus Bane, City of Fallen Angels by Cassandra Clare.

"Nico, I've seen a lot of brave things. But what you just did? That was maybe the bravest." Jason Grace to Nico di Angelo, House of Hades by Rick Riordan.

"Should I tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I've just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all?" Prince Henry of Wales to Alex Claremont-Diaz the First son, Red White & Royal Blue by Casey Mcquiston.

"You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.”

"And who are you?"

"I'm Willem Ragnarsson. And I will never let you go." Willem Ragnarsson to Jude St. Francis, A Little Life by Hanya Yanahigara.

"How could I have ever been ashamed of loving Dante Quintana?" Aristotle Mendoza in Aristotle and Dante discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sàenz.

"I could spend the rest of my life like this: with him, at night, in Rome, my eyes totally shut, one leg coiled around his. I thought of coming back here in the weeks or months to come—for this was our spot." Elio from Call me by your name by Andrè Aciman.

Of course there are many more real and fictional couples, feel free to comment some.

As I said, I know not whether it is the place that I live or my own upbringing. But I will maybe allow myself to silently feel but I would never have the courage to love like these people. Those who receive love are both weak and strong but those who love are stronger than anyone else.

- midnight rants.

[lesbiansforboromir]

It would be! I can understand movies straying from the books but from what you’ve said they just straight up ruined D and anything interesting between D B and F. I don’t hate the movie (that sort of dynamic can be fun) but it sounds like I might’ve preferred the book version. They brought on a topic that people would get defensive over so ppl praising D’s character would look really gross to ppl who haven’t read the book, eee your experience must’ve been yiksey.

I mean listen! Lotr I would say has a very unique dynamic between book and film because like... the films were fucking good. Like I love these films still. They are all standalone great films and whilst there was book fan backlash at the time it was rightfully quashed by the deserved amount of fans the film got because it was so good. 

But it created this very weird issue where people just kinda assumed that because the films were great, they were at least very similar to the books. The film’s memory has wholly changed the way the books are viewed because they were so good. So it means that even the hardest book fans can still be influenced by the films. Like I was totally onboard for the theoden tragically bewitched man but in the books he’s really just depressed and choosing to believe Grima over Eomer and Theodred. He’s a much more neutral character, which I only remembered with my last read through, even though I’ve read through these books a tonne since the film came out. 

Essentially it means that much of the fandom has no real seperation between book and film in their minds which YEAH creates situations that are strange for me. Still haunted by the time someone told me to suck their toes on one of my denethor positive takes. Though really I’ve never had any genuine backlash, it’s more just my own selfish frustrations at not being able to read fanfic of Gondor at all ajsdhjaksd 

But yeah! In essentials, the films made Gondor’s situation as a whole both not make sense, and much more boring and less desperate. And that’s including the Stewards as a family. The thing of Faramir being like the devoted brother to Boromir too, Faramir doesn’t say... one single unreservedly nice thing about Boromir at any point in the books. Not to the hobbits, not to his father, not to Gandalf, no one. He at one point says ‘alas for boromir, whom I too loved’ but the way it’s stated is almost as if it’s a surprise, it sounds like ‘I loved him in spite of x’ I WILL STOP COMPLAINING, I am sick and so apt to complain