the-aleator

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxix

featuring:

THURSDAY: They come at you through what you care about. (Home 1.4) MORSE: What was it you said, "They come at you through what you love"? (Uniform 9.2) THURSDAY: They come at you through what you love. Family! (Exeunt 9.3)

a character arc from "care" to "love" to "love" in 9 seasons

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxviii

featuring: Exeunt viii, s1-9 Thank you to @too-antigonish @mywingsareonwheels @fanficrocks @astridcontramundum @sircolinmorgan @magnificentgardenerdinosaur and all the other splendid people who have been writing about Exeunt. I have learned so much from your thoughts, and also your compassion on this very difficult ending. I sat down to try and excise it from my heart, and this came out. I hope it gives back some of what your conversation has given to me.

THURSDAY: Instinct. One minute, he was there.....the next, he wasn't. He'd have done for Sam. I don't regret it. I'd do it again in an instant. That type. He was nothing! MORSE: He was...He was someone's son. THURSDAY: But not mine. Not mine.

I’ve been thinking a great deal about that phrase, “Someone's son,” for quite a while, and reading a lot of the other splendid people’s thinking on here, and trying to understand exactly what it is that is being conveyed in Exeunt. We have here the summation, and final breaking of their relationship, and the send-off from Endeavour to Inspector Morse.

And I do think it’s about love, and hurt, and people’s principles, and how principles hurt us as much as flaws. Or rather, that our principles taken to extremes are flaws.

Take Thursday, about whom I’ve defended so much, the past few weeks. In this final exchange, he comes down on “Not mine,” to justify the killing of Tomahawk to save Sam.

I think that when Thursday uses the phrase “Someone else’s son,” throughout Endeavour, he uses it in an analogical sense that “someone else has a son just as I have a son,” so he sees every body, every victim, every crime, as a personal action of hurt against someone he loves.  This principle is both a flaw and a strength.

 It leads him to love each victim personally—take, Stanley Clemence, about whom he says “I carried that boy out of a bloodbath…I can’t give up on him.” He remembers Clemence as a boy he cared for, protected, loved, and that lets him keep fighting for him and protecting him as a person, even now, when he’s a drug addict and small time offender and accused of murder.  Or Mrs Radowitz, in Raga, who he knows to be a racist and a bigot but is still the mother of a murdered son, and so tries to comfort and protect in the mortuary over the body of her son but she only hits out at him, verbally, physically. 

And it’s also a heroic strength in that it lets him forgive those he loves and see in them always something worth saving. Ronnie Box is a great example of this, who starts by belittling Thursday and ends by saving his life. (And trying to do it again in Exeunt.) Thursday’s love for him, and his ability to forgive him, leads him to redemption. Even Charlie, who stole money from him and betrayed him, Thursday still wants to know if he’s alright. And Charlie repays that love because, as Lott points out “It’s only being Charlie’s brother that kept you above ground” because Charlie has kept him alive and at some cost.

Thursday the policeman springs from Thursday the father, writ large. “There’s a town that needs seeing to,” is simply ‘I will care for Oxford as I would my own family.’ He cares for the collective as if each one were his son, daughter, wife, mother, father.

It makes Thursday wise to human nature, as Morse is not. It makes him sit there in interrogation with murderers, and perverts, and thieves, and prostitutes, and relate to them as people who he might be. Over and over again in the series, it will be Thursday who says, ‘Oh I see,’ or ‘I understand,’ face to face with whatever evil has happened. “You were there that night,” he says to Yeager, in Terminus, instinctively understanding that Yeager the insane mass murderer wants to talk about Loomis, his student, his friend. “What about pity? Understanding?” he asks Morse in Scherzo. How many times does he say to Morse, “I would have done that, if it were my daughter?” It starts all the way in the Pilot, and winds up in Exeunt.

But it’s also a flaw, because it taps into Thursday’s fear (and reinforced through so Much Trauma) that his loved ones will be hurt and die, and the necessity that he’s learned of violence for safety in his own childhood, the War, London. We see the lengths he will go to for Joan, and Sam, and Win, and Morse. And for victims, too, who he loves like he loves them, of which Prey is a great example, when he attacks Hodges over Jordan (“She was in Joan’s year at school….I promised her mother”).

And it’s also a flaw because it leads him to love not wisely but too well. Perhaps because he’s aware that his relationship with violence is problematic and the way that relates to his own self-worth and judgement about those he loves: he only calls Sam on his behaviour after everything is nearly lost. He tries to love Joan and protect her by getting her to come home out of a situation he clearly judges to be bad, and doesn’t succeed, and because he can’t protect her, then he attacks Ray. He only calls Morse out on his drunkenness after he’s actively obstructing a murder investigation and he just can’t ignore it anymore. He lends Charlie the money even though he clearly thinks it’s a bad idea and loves his brother but doesn’t think much of him.

And the rationalization, as seen here, that to love one person that intensely, that devotedly over another, that in order to protect that someone, to kill for them even and without regret, that the other person might have to be “nothing.”  As some other people have pointed out much more eloquently than I have, I don’t think Thursday actually believes this, but he’s so lost his sense of balance between the inner world upon which he draws strength and hope, the world of his own family, “his own son”,  the origin of his paternal role, the world which gives meaning to that outer world he wants to protect, the world of “someone’s son who is like his son” as a policeman.

I also think it’s problematic to see that rationalization as the end of Thursday’s principles, as the summation of his character, that the binary of “Not mine” is everyone else is “Nothing.” Because the answer Thursday always draws before this is: “not mine” and “not mine but like mine.” To the point that in Harvest, Thursday can empathize so much with Donald that he puts down his own gun and invites him to kill him. It takes a slew of character-breaking events to make Thursday to pull on this rationalization. Because as @mywingsareonwheels points out, “I know thee not, old man,” is a cry for truth that’s immediately honored. Thursday explains what happened, as best he can: it was “instinct.” And we can see, too, how this differs so much from what happens in Home: Thursday does not go out looking to put down the villains before it hurts his family. He reacts in a split-second decision of “instinct,” to actively stop someone from murdering him and Sam. This is not retributive violence. I think we have to see that. To see that the way the Bikers murder Lott, and the way that John Bingsley murders the two academics is actually quite different from what Thursday does. They are both groups that also see everyone who is “Not mine”  as “Nothing,” and actively look for revenge.  

And also, he immediately goes back on it in his care for other people. He includes Jim in his group of people that need to be protected (he would include Bright but he’s going to India!). He asks after Jakes, and Peter Williams. He also includes Morse in his “Someone’s son;” I defy anyone to see that last “Endeavour” as anything but paternal or fraternal devotion.  These men are all not his son, but like his sons.

One thing I do want to pause here to problematize in the story itself is the narrative choices about Peter Williams. I do think he is reduced to a plot device of senseless violence, and the reveal that he is also Tomahawk is meant to be the key turn of significance. But it’s of so little weight in the story that it seems like a plot device played for angst. (A similar reveal happened in Quartet, and I was also critical of that key turn for the same reason.) I think, wittingly or not, that the parallel reduction happens when Peter Williams is reduced to Raymond Kennett is reduced to “Tomahawk,” (which is how Morse refers to him in this conversation), so that his identity is reduced to his role in the Biker Gang, and literally the name of a weapon.

To return to Thursday’s “Not Mine,” that rationalization as justification comes under the weight of so so much pressure and trauma.  Yes, Thursday makes that choice, to defend by killing, and to cover it up and justify it with “That type. He was Nothing.” But also, season 9 is deliberately vindictive to Thursday to achieve a specific end for Morse; and the relentless trauma and heartbreak that’s done to him in s1-8. I think we have to see him also in light of a letter, indirectly delivered, that said “I am nothing to you now,” and in response Thursday leaves his wife at Christmas, goes on a headlong trip to Italy, to save Morse from himself and being killed.

And I think we also have to see it in light of the comment Thursday makes just earlier in the pub conversation with Morse: “Well, wherever he [Peter Williams] is now, I hope he’s at peace.” But that weight, at least partly, is Morse.

In this conversation, Morse fully knows that Tomahawk is Peter Williams, that not only does he has the role of being a Biker and criminal, but that he was also the unhappily adopted Raymond Kennett, and he was also the abused orphan at Blenheim Vale. So he is simultaneously like the boy that Thursday almost died to find, and the man that tried to murder him and was in turn killed by him.

I think when Morse uses the phrase “Someone’s son,” he uses it in quite a different sense than Thursday. He doesn’t have the same analogical view of seeing “someone’s son” as being like his own son. Rather, he sees it as a “someone’s son” that everyone is a son or daughter or father or mother, and they are all equally valuable. Tomahawk is simultaneously both son and biker and victim and murderer. But Morse is not involved in this system of roles, except as a bystander or an observer of this principle in abstract. He is, as Eve Thorne comments in Muse, “Outside looking in at what you want but daren't ask for.” It is a principle of equability, of a dispassionate valuing or love that sees not one single person as more important than another. I don’t know about Quakerism to say what or how this principle might correspond to Morse’s upbringing—but I do suspect some of it is from there.

Each person, to Morse, is a world apart. And he is separate from them. It is Morse the orphan-turned-scholar, still trying to understand how to live after what happened to his mother, "I didn't kill her," Gwen accuses Morse, and that's the single-armor piercing question that renders him speechless, fells him.

And this principle, too, is both a flaw and a strength.

It lets him look at Blenheim Vale the first time and say, this needs to be put right, and the second time, in the face of professional disaster and personal pressure and injury and trauma and separate it, and say, this still needs to be put right, to bring justice to Brenda Lewis on behalf of Andrew Lewis and Robbie Lewis on behalf of both, for a mother, her son, and his cousin.

The idea that someone has destroyed a person, and the entirety of a world, and that might go unanswered is anathema to him.

And it’s a heroic strength because it doesn’t matter the cost. Over and over again we see Morse put his naked life on the line, with no defense or even hope of a defense, on the stake of the principle that every life is worth defending, saving. It’s an absolute quest, or nothing: “A father's lost his daughter. That has to be put right. If I can't do that.....there's nothing.” To Monica, in Trove. That every life is valuable.

But it’s a flaw in that it doesn’t matter the cost—Morse never sees or is willing to see how much this is hurting the people around him. “Because I believe it to be true, sir,” he says to Bright, after confronting with his deduction that Mrs. Bright has been murdered. Bright is almost dumbfounded, he’s so griefstricken, “Get him out of my station,” he says to Thursday, absolutely hurt. And Morse here is both so earnest in his pursuit of the truth, and also so so terribly cruel.  He follows his principle for Mrs. Bright here, but in doing so, is unjust and unkind to Bright himself. Doing justice at BV, meeting with Lott, is more important to him than the bittersweet task of standing for Strange as his best man. If every person is equally as valuable, no one is more valuable than another. “Well don’t you care,” Strange asks Morse about Fancy’s death in Pylon, and Morse responds, “Would it make a difference?” And being separate from the world is very lonely and bitter.

And it’s also a flaw in that it only works if the “someone’s son” is an idealized, static picture. A crystal globe puzzle, or a musical piece, that Morse can turn over and over in his hands, to try and understand this world, and then leave it when the puzzle is finished. Other than BV, which is a “whitewash,” Morse never mentions anything about old cases—it’s Thursday who’s associated with memory, who brings up the history of Blythemount Murders in Nocturne, who remembers about Yeager’s murders in Terminus. Morse never looks at the bodies, he rarely understands why people do what they do except in literary terms or physical clues, as sanitized parts. It’s very noticeable, for instance, in the Raga autopsy scene, that Morse is standing awkwardly in the corner as far as he can get from Mrs. Radowitz and her son’s body, and he’s not looking at them, he’s looking at Thursday comforting her.

And I think we can see, by the progression of Morse’s girlfriends / lovers, that as years draw on they grow further and further from reality: starting from Monica, who is the most real, and ending with Violetta, who is the most fictionalized, and then Joan, who is the most idealized – to the point of a literal fantasy sequence. The Thursday family too, as they grow further away from a Dickensian house of jollity, and closer and closer to a real family that grows and changes and wants to include him finally – he rejects it.

Because of course, he’s not “someone’s son.” He’s an orphan twice over. He’s on the outside, looking in. That's the great strength that hurts him as much as it helps. The picture, the principle, the ideal: everyone matters because everyone’s someone even if the world says they are “nothing.” And the corollary to that is no one’s in particular. It’s an uneasy state, I think.  Morse relies on Thursday to connect him to the world, to praise him, to see him as someone in particular. Because everyone is a separate world can lean far too far towards everyone is separate and everyone is nobody to anyone else, and everyone is nothing.

So when Thursday says “Not Mine,” Morse can’t privilege Sam over Tomahawk, can’t say his life is worth more than the other. And we see this at the beginning of Exeunt:

MORSE: A boy comes to Oxford looking for his mother and ends up dead on a college lawn and that just goes for nothing? He matters to someone.

THURSDAY: But who? His mother's dead and he couldn't get away from his father quick enough.

And Morse, of course, produces Robbie Lewis, and Thursday is drawn in – Morse can make Thursday see how he himself involved – Robbie is like them both, “a copper.” We can see here both the failure and virtue of their principles. For so long, they’ve overlapped, and here at BV, they finally are irrevocably shattered.  Privileging his son over Tomahawk shatters Thursday—because it’s always been personal. And insisting on everyone is someone means that Morse has to shatter his relationship with Thursday because it always been the principle.

To love means “I chose you,” over someone else, which Thursday tells Morse in Scherzo. And he goes on choosing him, right to the end. That’s another heroic strength of Thursday’s principle: he can love, and forgive Morse for his own screwups, his risks, his stupidity, his anger, his cruelty, his condescension, his drunkness. It is inherently not equitable; and it is inherently interpersonal – it creates a bond between you, that says you are something in relation to me.

One of the things that I find most unkind about Morse in his devoted and also co-dependent relationship with Thursday, is that he demands heroic sacrifice of Thursday – demands that he always be his best self but only as he wants it. So, Morse doesn’t want to be protected but also doesn’t protect himself, and is self-sacrificial frequently because he’s careless, even though he knows that this makes Thursday violently protective. So he wants him to treat him like an equal but doesn’t act like it.

And here, in Exeunt, we can see how Morse leverages Thursday’s principle to convince him that re-opening BV is worth the cost. It’s a heroic cause, and it is worth it. But also because Morse doesn’t truly, fully understand how Thursday’s principle works, he doesn’t see how much cost it incurs to Thursday and his family.

 And one of the most beautiful parts of Thursday’s character is his magnanimity and his lovingness: it starts in Fugue with a coat blanket, and goes on to Exeunt, even when Morse keeps pushing him away. In Sway, Thursday tries to tell him there “more to life” than work, and Morse default to “Three weeks…between the first and second victims.” 7 seasons later, Thursday calls him on his drinking, and Morse defaults to a “cufflink” Terminus. Thursday tries to love him in this way, but Morse shuts him down, every single time. “I…I’m glad you’re back,” Thursday is allowed to tell him, because anything more than work is not something that Morse is willing to accept—giving him a role in Thursday’s life as someone in particular.

And that pedestal: yes, Thursday falls off it. But also, what kind of pedestal is it? Isn’t it a hangman’s rope around Thursday’s neck? Love without forgiveness is a kind of perpetual weighing to be found wanting. In Pylon, when Morse gives Thursday the hammer from the Clemence murder, it’s definitely a test, in part for Morse, in part for Thursday. Is he still the hero, the man on that pedestal, we can see Morse scrutinizing him. Is he still worthy? Is Morse's judgement still good?  And s7: THURSDAY “Nobody’s good enough.” MORSE “No, there was one person. But he lost his way,” Morse is not in a good mental state here, but he’s using the same judgement that he once used in s6 to bring Thursday to his senses, and here he’s using it as a scourge. Thursday never tells him about the loan, or the bribe he took, or what he did with Box, or about Sam, because he knows full well that Morse probably won’t forgive him.  

And let’s be clear here: Morse can’t forgive himself either, and “blames himself for everything,” as Thursday says about Venice to Bright in Striker. Nobody is ever good enough.

Thursday is the binding link between these two principles. Up until this point, “someone’s son” is what Thursday has said, even if he has meant it in analogy to himself, and Morse takes it as a principle. And Thursday, too, is Morse’s deepest, strongest connection to other people. And Thursday treats him as an intellectual equal and a friend. But Thursday, on the other hand, is also unkind to Morse, because he so fundamentally doubts his own worth whenever he fails in his role as policeman or father. And he asks Morse to validate him, to use his judgement to prop him up. And Thursday’s coming to the rescue time and again for Morse validates him as a protector. He ties his own self-worth so strongly to being a protector that he can’t come outright and tell Bright that he can’t deal with BV anymore. Morse tries to re-direct him into protecting everyone else, especially Jim, and that fails because Thursday never considers himself as worthy of protection or as important as anyone else. Which is something that the system has categorically confirmed to Thursday: by what happens to him after Mickey Carter and George Fancy’s death, and also his own near death at BV.  

And that leaves a hole, doesn’t it, in the end logic of “someone’s son” vs “my son?” Because both of these principles only work when the person who anchors them acknowledges himself as also unique and valuable and a separate world and also connected to all people as a son, father, brother etc.   Because the thing that Thursday never says and should say which Morse might actually honor is: he was going to kill me.  That Thursday was the intended victim here, that he was not just acting as protector. That he was so afraid of how the system has treated him that he would be blamed. That he was so afraid of how he knows the system works that his son would be blamed for what he did.  I don’t think it’s an accident that we discover Thursday was also an abused child in this episode, just like Tomahawk; or that it’s Lott (as the ultimate representation of the system’s corruption) who tells Morse “Who would believe him?”

So, what do I think? Lott attacks Morse in place of Thursday, because of his role as Thursday’s bagman. And the Bikers spare him, because “We’re with nobody. His business with you is his business.” The principle that damns him is Thursday’s principle; the principle that saves him is Thursday’s principle—the principle that brought him out there in the first place is his own. And that’s the principle that takes him out of BV to the wedding and to the pub. 

Morse saves Joan and Strange (and will go on saving them), at the cost of badly damaging Jim’s regard for him, and probably whatever relationship he might have had with Mrs. Strange.  Strange privileges Joan and his career over finishing up Blenheim Vale; Bright sides with Morse mostly here and does his best to balance the truth while saving both Thursday or Morse.

I think you can’t have one without the other. Love without wisdom is folly; but truth without love is cruelty.  Which I think both Morse and Thursday show, at their best points and their best selves. I think we shouldn’t take them at their worst selves as the final be-all.

The bittersweet ending says to me that Morse acknowledges that Thursday killed Tomahawk, interprets Thursday’s responses that Tomahawk was “nothing” as being unwell and so traumatized or mentally ill that he can’t or shouldn’t be a policeman anymore and pronounces judgement: they must leave. And Thursday honours his judgement, contritely, and gives up being DSU Thursday and the protector by giving Morse his gun. And Morse restores him his money so he can retire with his family. And Thursday tells him he doesn't need a lift, and to go onto his recital. The reciprocal moves of trust and honor and love on each other’s terms.

I do think the “Endeavour” scene is both a callback to the beginning and a reminder to Morse of who he is, that he needs to Endeavour, and final gift of Thursday’s paternal faith and love, and a coming of age scene; but I also think we are supposed to think it's a final severing between Morse and the world, that an "Endeavour" who is capable of being loved and who is loved is not who Morse thinks (or says!) he is anymore.

Do I believe that? Well, no. But that’s a different story.

MORSE: "Is that it?"

CONDUCTOR: "That's it."

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxvii

featuring: Exeunt vii In this episode, I can't decide which says more about Thursday's this is fine, I'm fine, everything's fine traumatic backstory:

either he actually doesn't realize, or literally can't or won't admit to anyone that (1) re-opening BV makes him scared for his own life (2) when he has his "turn" it's serious and that he was in serious danger when (3) Tomahawk was trying to stab him (4) Arthur Lott was trying to shoot him; or, after a total breakdown at Morse the night before, Thursday can go into the office the next day and act like nothing has happened and he is totally fine to the point of attending the actual crime scene even after killing Raymond Kennett.

[the-aleator]

@too-antigonish

I'm quoting the end of your previous post, just because it's a lot of screen inches away (and worth the re-read!): <<S9E2: Uniform>>

"Doesn't seem right, somehow. Insult to injury."

When you haul this quote out right front and center, Fred Thursday, you are talking about yourself! And honestly, it sums up a huge part of Exeunt to me: adding insult to injury for M&T (and Raymond / Peter too.)

Re-watching the scene where Morse hauls out diggers to BV in this episode really hammers home that Thursday's CPTSD is in straight control here: he uses his Staff Sergeant Voice, and then when he confronts Bright to ask him if "he's sure," he keeps nervously swallowing. It's a visual callback to the confrontation with Box where he noticeably shrinks, and here he's drill straight.

S9E3: Exeunt

<<I don't think I've seen anything beyond a brief mention of how Thursday's actions in Exeunt might be related to his PTSD. Here's a man with serious trauma in his past. He's recently been under a whole load of extreme new stressors. Then, late one night, when he's already in a heightened emotional state, he's confronted with a split-second, life-or-death situation. What do we expect to happen?...In talking about Rocket you mention that Thursday absolves Morse of responsibility of remembering or understanding because "he's too young." I wonder what that ultimately means in light of the killing that finally drives these two men apart. I'm not actually sure. Morse has experienced a great deal of trauma in his life, but he has not experienced the very unique trauma of war. If he had, would it have changed that last meeting with Thursday?>>

Yes! You've put your finger on exactly something that bothers me about this last meeting. Actually, let me back up: I absolutely do think that Thursday's killing of Tomahawk is driven by his CPTSD/PTSD. One thing I notice is Thursday feels so threatened earlier in this episode that he goes and gets his gun from his KITCHEN: he feels so unsafe that the gun which for every other season has been either in his desk at work or in shed out in the garden as far as possible from the house is now in the heart of his home. And apparently carries it around for the entirety of the episode. And clearly when he comes home and confronts Morse, he's either completely in shock / acute PTSD episode / mental health crisis / totally coming apart.

I do think the episode is suggesting that Thursday's answer of "Instinct" is just meant to be the animal instinct of protecting yourself / your young, just as the Bikers do ("blood feud gang"). But I also see "Instinct" as you do about going back to the War. And I feel like the fact that Uniform sets this up and then it gets dropped in this final conversation is just sigh so frustrating! I want you go there, Show!: the ambition of so many plotlines has been asking something important about the trauma of those who served and did violence and suffered violence and coping with that and healing from it and how it got passed onto the next generation. I do think that Morse doesn't understand the trauma at all that Thursday is dealing with here, and I'd like to think that they truncated the conversation because they realised they were talking at completely cross purposes. (But I also like to think that Morse tries to come to an understanding of it later!) Hope and redemption are such an important part of Endeavour's ethos, and I refuse to believe it just got dumped to one side.

endeavour musings iv

featuring: Fred Thursday's PTSD / CPTSD 1. Fugue, s1e2 Everything about this scene is perfect: Morse + Thursday subdue Gull; Bright shows up to ask if everything is under control and Thursday, on autopilot, fixes his hair + hat, tie, suit jacket, and says, "More or less, sir." After Gull gets his parting shot, Thursday picks up his -- now broken-- pipe and his hands (particularly his right) are shaking. Morse definitely picks up on this, ? if Bright does. His whole stance is that of a man in shock. 2. Prey, s2e3 After attacking Hodges, we get Thursday, in his office (? Achilles in his tent?). The framing device of Thursday's office window is such a lovely subtle choice -- mirroring a frequent stylistic choice in hospital dramas -- usually the outside looking in on the patient, but in this case the side profile and slow pan down to see Thursday's hands, his right shaking violently.

It's definitely not a coincidence either that the scene immediately following this one is the discovery of where the tiger has been kept, in a cage. It's Thursday's right hand that trace over the tiger's claw marks, and then he says:

THURSDAY: It's hardly big enough to house a dog in. MORSE: Poor creature must have been driven half mad.

10/10 for Morse's line being a voice-over on a shot of Thursday looking down and finding Inid's dress, covered in blood. 3. Coda, s3e4 I've never before noticed that Thursday actually is pressing the point of his dart into Peter Matthew's neck when he attacks with a beer bottle. I'm fairly convinced that the dart flipping after this scene is meant to be an effective distraction for his hand shaking -- except then we get Thursday's Cough of Death.

But then we get Thursday's roughing up his Snout, and the gun-fighting at the bank: no hand shaking. But I would argue, judging by the way Thursday yells "Sergeant Strange," he is effectively back in the war--the whole episode is just one a pile-on of new!trauma bringing up old trauma. 4. Apollo, s6e2 Immediately after Thursday getting beaten up, we get DCI Box giving him Scotch! and Light Duties!, and oh yes, DCI Box does notice Thursday that your right hand is shaking.

Also, I know Endeavour aims more for the stylized theatrical than on the side of realism, but Thursday is a Man of Iron, for being able to walk off a pick handle and a thorough kicking. (Seriously though: human ribs are actually fairly fragile.)

Which also brings up the really big question in my mind: we never get anything from Win on this! honourable mentions to:

Prey, +100 pts to Bright for being the only lovely person to realize "He hasn't been right since Blenheim Vale" and to say to Thursday's face:

BRIGHT: There isn't a man in this station who will gainsay it but you [Thursday] need to rest and keep your checkups.

A pity that Endeavour is a hurt/comfort show that is aaaalll out of comfort by ... season 2? 2. Ride, s3e1: the full-on body flinch response to being "fake" shot as part of the Great Zambezi's trick.

3. Cartouche, s5e2: staggering out of the burning theater with Morse like two soldiers hobbling off the front line. And then we get a shot of Thursday's right hand and Trilby, still covered in soot, in Bright's office.

4. Coda, s3e4: Thursday reaching for Joan's hand after the bank; and the only shot we've gotten so far of Thursday hand-in-hand with Win afterwards.

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxvi

featuring: Exeunt vi & the tragedy of Endeavour In that final meeting, I can't decide which is worse to contemplate:

either we are supposed to think that Morse shakes hands and hears that "Endeavour" and still thinks that Thursday doesn't love him; or that Morse does hear it, and says "No," now and forever.

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxv

featuring: Exeunt v -- character arcs, plotholes I'm still upset by the fact that Tomahawk aka Raymond Kennett is basically a Plot Device of Senseless Violence and Drug Dealing and the reveal that he is Peter Williams is also just a Plot Device to add extra Angst to Morse & Thursday. And that we never got Jakes or any of the other BV boys' response to his death. I am also frustrated by how Sam Thursday's characterisation in s9 is set up to be traumatized veteran but instead comes across as sulky teenager, and since he manages to spend the whole time drunk, selling or doing drugs, disrespecting his mother, stealing from his father, and then punches his father out at his future BIL's stag do and in front of all his colleagues, but can also magically correct ALL of that *handwave* for the move to Carshall (as the plot demands).

Win Thursday can cold shoulder her husband for a year over the loan to Charlie of their life savings; but Sam disrespects her to her face, treats her couch like a dosshouse, and steals from her / Fred, and the only thing she does is let him walk all over her and make excuses for him. Jim Strange is sensible enough to take the ticket to Kidlington and get out of the BV firing line and only wants to make sure Joan approves and he hasn't lost Thursday's regard love; Morse not only approves of this but suggests it. (But he still won't quit the Masons!). The episode has too many plotholes

No one at the bar sees Thursday, even though the Gents is depicted as being behind the building in the yard and Sam/Tomahawk both have to walk through a side door to get there (Morse / Thursday come in the front ? door), and the bar is not particularly full

Tomahawk's buddy is clearly depicted as still drinking in the bar, but doesn't go and look for him, even though his bike must still be there?

Whatever happened to Tomahawk's keys? Morse makes a point of mentioning it at the autopsy but it's never brought up again.

Why the Bikers manage to follow Lott: either Morse told them, or they're preeternally good at following random people who they might recognize around random parts of Oxford.

The Bikers buy that Tomahawk was Lott's informant, but instead of blaming him for Tomahawk's death, a man who they already knew to be responsible for the death of one of their members in Camden, they will go looking for a vague description of Sam as someone who had some heated starring contests with Tomahawk.

Honestly, we have yet another B-plot murder based on "accidents" with an outlandish obituary scheme, a scheme which relies on the newspaper calling the wrong number twice for an established funeral home and NOBODY else noticing that the dead person was already dead when the obituary was printed. Honestly, it smacks of the Talenti Insurance Murder Schemes from s7 (which as a reviewer pointed out somewhere, would actually have been illegal / not possible in the 1960s).

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxiv

featuring: Police Corruption, all s9 spoilers

One of the Narrative Traps that I really don't like about s7-9 of Endeavour is the sort of hopelessness or fatalism that seeps into a lot of the plot-lines. The growing Police Corruption / BV is a huge example of this: no other policeman can be trusted.

My own notes: -Commander Len Drury is clearly a thinly disguised expy of Commander Kenneth Drury, who was head of the Flying Squad and convicted on five counts of corruption in July 1977 and served 8 years in prison.

(That's the guy in the Orange Trilby who Thursday calls a "two-bob Shitehawk" and who in turn tells Thursday "his card is marked" if he comes back to London.)

-And we have Sir Robert Mark who formed A10 to fight corruption in the Met police, and forced Drury & nearly 500 others to resign or be dismissed.

-Operation Countrymen between 1978 - 1982 in London, "over 250 police officers were forced to resign and many faced criminal charges after investigations revealed that police membership of particular Masonic lodges formed the nucleus of a criminal conspiracy." Dale Campbell-Savours, link.

I do have thoughts about how you could use these and other events to write post-canon Endeavour works.

[the-aleator]

(edited for clarity)

You bring up some great points here -- particularly some subtleties in the pub scene I hadn't thought about. In order, then, <<I think it took me a year to fully process the final season as a whole and Exeunt in particular. Even now I'm still up in the air about some aspects.>>

Still trying to process over here! Glad to have your thoughts, because I suspect I will never be satisfied with the ending.

<<I'd also throw in that much of his stress is related to his belief (in my opinion very misguided) that he needs to keep his son's addictions and the fact that he is a victim of blackmail completely hidden from trustworthy friends who have his back.>> One possibility I've considered here is that Thursday's belief about keeping the blackmail is partly out of shame, I think, both that he thinks he's to blame, and also because it's Charlie, his brother, who has done this to him. And also it's fear because it's the London Corruption ("they") who have done this--from whom he's always tried to protect everyone. I'd also push back a little bit on your claim here, in the sense that Morse has been totally unreliable for at least two years at this point to him as a friend & he probably thinks he shouldn't introduce a recovering alcoholic to a current addict. And Morse, aside from Bright, is probably the only person he would share this with -- and Bright has been fragile in his own way in the last two years, and as his superior, is probably off limits.

I also think that Thursday's uncharacteristic refusal or stalling to re-open BV is a clearly depicted consequence of his PTSD, and the fact that Morse treats it flippantly ("Ego te absolvo") and Bright doesn't even seem to notice is probably an additional factor.

<<That to me seems all the more reason to turn to Morse or Bright or Strange or even all three.>> Yes, absolutely. Except they wouldn't be allowed to investigate, or help would they? It would be sent out to County, and every episode with them has shown us Thursday is right to fear reprisals there.

<<That brings me to Morse. His take-down of Thursday in the final pub scene is still painful to watch, but perhaps I've made it more palatable for myself by analyzing it to death.>>

Thank you for all of this! I find your explanations so thoughtful and thought-provoking. I'd quote it in full but the reblog would get long indeed. That "I know thee not, old man." One of the things that makes me itch about it is as a reference to Allam (it also reminds me of the Parade's End quote in Colours)--how much was it chosen for that reason?. And also, as a judgement on Thursday: it's both unjust and unkind. (It's part of Morse condescending to Thursday w his superior intellect / education that I do not Like about s7-9.) I do find it an interesting contrast with the "I know you, you wouldn't do that just for money." Morse in that scene is both absolutely certain that he knows Thursday, and also absolutely terrified that he's gotten it wrong. And that scene chronologically is after the killing of Tomahawk, so we can say that Morse does still know him at this point. <<THURSDAY: Instinct. One minute he was there, the next he wasn't. He'd have done for Sam. I don't regret it. I'd do it again in an instant. That type. He was nothing. He was...

MORSE: He was someone's son.

THURSDAY: But not mine. Not mine. >>

One of the things I really struggle with in this particular part of the scene is the fact that s9 waited until the last 2/3s of Exeunt to really try and walk back that Morse said, "And now because of The Ostrich Fanciers' Club, they mean nothing to anyone" in Scherzo, and Thursday's passionate counter-argument. (We also get the magnificent "I'm the Queen's Man" in the previous episode.)

It makes it really hard for me to believe this scene, because there are just so many ways in which it contradicts Thursday's character--except as being totally Out of Character to the point of mental breakdown. I just don't buy that Thursday really believes it, or that Morse would be convinced by it. I think those words would probably hurt him deeply, and as you say, Morse is in an incredibly vulnerable position here, but I also don't see how that could be it.

Another problem that troubles me about this scene is the logical incoherence of it, that Morse and Thursday are talking about two different things when they use the phrase "someone's son." It conflates the "someone's son" which Morse has previously used to talk only about the victims he investigates with Thursday's usage of the phrase, which is about defending the living, ie himself and his own son, Sam.

Are we supposed to think that Morse finds violence so problematic that he would be willing to let Thursday pere et fils be knifed to death over a principle? Because that seems untenable for a policeman. (And truly, if the show / or Morse had at any instant laid any groundwork about the other two people that Thursday killed to save Morse, or even Morse killing Sturgis! I'd be a lot more forgiving of this moment.) I just don't understand what it is that Morse is advocating for here.

I can't help but see it as a callback to all the times that Morse thought getting justice for the dead was more important than Thursday's or admittedly his own life. <<For me, the Faure Requiem scene is more>> One thing I find intriguing about this episode is the use of the Funeral service at the beginning, and the two pieces from Mozart's Requiem in addition to the Faure -- I haven't yet thought through what I think they mean!

endeavour musings xix

featuring: Exeunt i

MORSE: "Is that it?" CONDUCTOR: "That's it."

1. I just watched this last night, and the rest of the season in the last week or so. This is probably not the only thing I'll write on this (and the show as a whole), but I had to write something because, well, that's it. So, you can call this a bit of a first impressions post, reacting in the cooldown of the moment. And honestly? I'm a bit disappointed. And hurt -- if I'm allowed to be such a thing about a fictional show with made-up characters. One of the lessons you learn as a musician is that what the audience remembers is the beginning and the end: those are the two bits you have to land and land well. And Exeunt? Well, it's a bit of a mess isn't it? Every time I start thinking about it, I feel the need to launch a separate monograph, so I'll just stick to what's churning the most. Caveat lector.

2. Fred Thursday is not a murderer. He absolutely killed Tomahawk, but what is clearly depicted on screen is self defence. Tomahawk has verbally threatened Sam, he has a knife out, Thursday tells him to be "on [his] way" and Tomahawk replies he'll "do for the pair of them," and tries to stab Thursday. Thursday at this moment is unarmed, has not provoked him or threatened him--he has no intention of killing him. We later learn that Tomahawk in particular has two convictions for GBH, and is wanted for attempted murder. Thursday is more than twice his age, clearly ill, and under an immense amount of stress. Thursday even calls it "instinct." What little we are shown is absolutely self defence. The fact that even TvTropes lists Thursday as having "murdered" Tomahawk ! There are a lot of other unvoiced problems I have with this scenario, but the fact that the show managed to leave this ambiguous for viewers really bugs me. Laying everything else about Thursday aside, I don't think Morse would ever cover up an actual murder or attempted murder. Even for Thursday.  

3. Yes, the Requiem, Morse closing his heart forever, everyone is dead to him, etc etc. I'm not trying to be trivial, I did think it was a beautiful fitting meta ending, but also, I do think it doesn't really work. Do I think it's a lovely mirror action of the Pilot? Absolutely. Do I think it works as a last scene? Yes. Is it beautiful? Yes. But does it wooooork to cast off Endeavour for IM? For me? No. The man who is IM tries over and over to let people in; to the point where his desperation blinds him to people who are murderers (should I say especially murderesses?). His old university professors, his old friends, random drunks he meets in pubs, the old guy around the corner with his car, Adele, Strange, Lewis. He still loves Joyce, and eventually his niece / nephew. He has an extended correspondence all over the world. Whatever he thinks of Gwen (you know, the stepmother who drove him to think about suicide as a teenager, and contributed to his serious drinking problem in Scherzo), he still helps take care of her in a nursing home. This is not a man who's closed his heart forever. 

4. The way the show treats Morse's alcoholism and Sam's alcoholism / drug problem or dealing. I'm sorry, but what? Magical wand waved, and Morse has managed to get sober, go back to drinking but only in an as-needed way as the plot demands? The same thing with Sam, he's been wandering around in a drunken stupor for three episodes but now magically, at the end, he's bright-eyed, cleaned up and going to join the police. I do think this is a serious flaw of this season, and of the show as a whole, standing in the shadow of both Book!Morse and Thaw!Morse, where alcoholism is treated in a much more realistic and sophisticated way. 

5. Justice and redemption: these have been our key motifs throughout the seasons. I do think part of the issue with Exeunt for me on a philosophical level is the loss of exactly what thrilled and consoled me about Deguello. Which is that Morse finally has to face up to the fact that ideal justice isn't possible. It's not just the dilemma with Thursday either. We have Jakes too, who shows up at BV because " It's like half of me has always been here.  Half of me never left," and wanting to know about Peter Williams. And Morse (we assume) can't tell him for the same reason he can't tell Thursday: because Peter Williams was dead a long time ago. He can never "find" him for Jakes. He can never get justice for either Peter. Half of Peter Jakes will always be at BV. In some sense, it's just like Morse all over: justice for the dead is an answer that can be gotten because the dead no longer have questions, or change, or live. They are a book to be read, a puzzle to be solved. But in Deguello, into that gap -- which is always there, in justice-- stepped mercy and the hope of redemption.  Box: "The world is bent.  Always has been. We can't fix it." Thursday:  "We can try." We don't get that hope here -- and that's what feels like a kick in the teeth about this ending. Justice, suum cuique, is impossible, and thus drives away Morse. There is no redemption; this death is the end. 

6. Morse is once again saved by the narrative. Those bikers just neatly showed up so Morse never has to kill anyone. I don't know how many times I've pointed this out over the course of 36 episodes, but unlike Thursday, Morse is never faced with that final dilemma: it's always taken away from him by deus ex machina.  Even in this episode: Lott shoots at Thursday, and he has to defend his brother and himself. There's no one to save him. Tomahawk tries to stab him and Sam, and he has to defend himself. There's no one to save him. And yet, Morse is saved here just like every other single time Morse is saved by the narrative. 

7. The Joan / Morse plotline and wedding fantasy. I didn't think they put in the work to show us a happy Joan/Strange wedding but making it Morse-centric really is something else.

8.  One of the themes about this episode / season in particular is straight out of 1850 and I Do Not Like It. We've learned, over the course of 9 seasons, that Thursday's background is the worst in the show (save perhaps Jakes). His father was an abusive alcoholic, he grew up in extreme poverty in the East End (an outside privy, "one for every eight houses. 20 families." Quartet), and as a result of that he is personally known to many of the villains who come from the East End: Vic Kasper, Eddie Nero, Ken Drury, Mickey Flood. Arthur Lott, the Big Bad, is his former bagman. Charlie, his brother, is responsible for involving him in a long term fraud ("My whole life. Everything I've worked for. You've dragged me into the sewer." Icarus), which as of Exeunt was revealed to be a blind, just so Lott would have something on Thursday--we're not actually sure how much Charlie is involved but he clearly has serious connections to Lott ( Lott: "It's only being Charlie's brother that's kept you above ground.") Thursday is betrayed and stolen from by Charlie btw s5-s9, and Sam in s9; his life savings are all gone. This giant messy web of corruption eventually sucks Thursday in: he's trapped by it and as a result, shuts down BV and also covers up Tomahawk's death. It's that old Victorian favorite: Poor People Have No Moral Fiber. Perhaps it's not on purpose? But there's a definite correlation between working class poverty and corruption here with a fatalism that I don't like.  9. I promise there are things I liked, even loved about this final show: I just need to wait out the frustrated heartsickness of it first. And I have no doubt I'm going to write more about it. And I will absolutely defend that every single actor in this was magnificent, but particular shout-outs to James Bradshaw, Sara Vickers, Anton Lesser, Roger Allam and Shaun Evans. 

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxiii

featuring: names in Endeavour + spoilers for all s9

Mrs Pettybon : a portmanteau of a name combining "Petty" as in little or trivial importance and "bon" as in good. And her first name is "Joy!"

Fancy is actually a real British surname and may have been inspired by John Fancy, bonafide WWII war hero and inspiration for The Great Escape. Of course, probably also a pun because "Fancyman" is a sweetheart (polite) or lover / bit on the side (rude).

Ronnie Box is a character that we have immediately put in a "box" upon seeming him. But Degeullo proves us wrong and him right!

All three of the Thursday sons are named for kings: Thursday, whose name is Frederick Albert, is linked to both George V, Edward, and George VI. His dead brother (older? younger?) is named William aka Billy, and his living brother is Charles aka Charlie.

Reginald has a reputation as a fussy, old-fashioned sort of name but it does combine elements of "advice" or "counsel" and "ruler." Which is pretty fitting, for his character!

Monica is also a name which means "advisor," and I have to think they were pulling from St Monica, just because Monica is such a lovely and saintly character (she'd have to be! to fall in love with Morse -- his best relationship in 7 years his whole life)

[the-aleator]

Yes, I absolutely agree with you re becoming a victim of it's own success. I do think that RL had this plotline (or a variation of it in mind from the Pilot, where the scenario with Stromming is very similiar to what happens to Thursday), but that Thursday by the end had become both too integral to the show, because he carried so much of the emotional heft / gravitas, that RL had written himself into a corner. There was definitely a reviewer who suggested that also, that the only way it really works is if Thursday had died. I like both of your scenarios: it honestly would make more logical sense / character sense. I do think the poster (do you remember who?) who wrote about Horatius pointed out (and quite rightly) that RL was trying to turn the "mentor dying" trope inside out. Thursday dying would make a lot more sense of the whole Joan situation also. And Jim, in the sense that their prickly workship but not best friend relationship would be an understandable progression. The Way through the Woods would be so much more in character, yes, I love that! (And also, quite frankly, his desperation in The Promised Land...)

One of the things I'm really struggling with re Exeunt is that the show had done such work depicting the struggle for redemption for bad (Bright / Strange / Jakes) and good characters (Thursday, Morse) over the course of the show and then just shuts it down. I honestly think it almost works better if you consider s1-6 (making Morse Endeavour) a completely different show from s7-9 (making Morse Morse).

endeavour musings xxii

featuring: exeunt iv

1. Morse, the idealist, carries his tragic flaw to completion

Still here trying to make sense of this episode! I've been having a bit of success thinking about it as lying in the tragicomedy line -- one of the ideals that Morse clings too over the course of the show--his principle of love--is "If I found someone…..then all of this wouldn't matter at all," which he says to Trewlove in Icarus. (But he also say variations of it to Monica re Neverland -- he would give up work / country for a "we," and to Violetta, "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters" in Zenana).

And for Fred Thursday, who he loves so much, he does manage it: letting go of BV, letting go of Raymond Kennett. But I think, that seeing Thursday say he's given up all his principle for love, "He was nothing...Not mine," just like Rosamund Stromming (who gives up her music for her marriage! then kills for it), he sees how he's compromised his other principles for it ("Someone else's son,"), and it burns him. Both love and justice are ideals that he's failed. I do think, if you think about this way, it is actually a suicide shot (paralleling Stromming?) : both that it kills anything inside of him to love, and he can't live with the either / or. Which is why the "Tempest" as Meta monologue happens, then the Faure.

2. How does this square with Morse the idealist in book canon?

But I was reading your post (@too-antigonish) re the big reveal to Strange at the end of The Remorseful Day. link here And RL does mention somewhere writing with this scene in mind for the finale. One of the reasons I come down with the suicide angle is two bits from that section: the first is Strange describing about Morse "And he said exactly what I said to you a few minutes ago: nothing—nothing—that happened then had affected the inquiry in the slightest way." I think we can see the parallel here in the situation with Luisa Armstrong in Trove: her letter to Thursday wouldn't have affected the coroner in anyway / he doesn't summon Thursday to the crime scene. "And the other bit is "He [Morse] once told me [Strange] that the guiltiest he ever felt in his life was when a couple of the lads saw him flicking through a girlie magazine in the Summer-town newsagent’s." 3. It doesn't seem to fit. Morse is clearly upset / angry / guilty about what he's done just as much as what Thursday as done. And clearly did affect the inquiry, obviously.

AH! Obviously still really struggling with trying to make sense of this episode. I would love to hear what you think!

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxii

featuring: exeunt iv

1. Morse, the idealist, carries his tragic flaw to completion

Still here trying to make sense of this episode! I've been having a bit of success thinking about it as lying in the tragicomedy line -- one of the ideals that Morse clings too over the course of the show--his principle of love--is "If I found someone…..then all of this wouldn't matter at all," which he says to Trewlove in Icarus. (But he also say variations of it to Monica re Neverland -- he would give up work / country for a "we," and to Violetta, "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters" in Zenana).

And for Fred Thursday, who he loves so much, he does manage it: letting go of BV, letting go of Raymond Kennett. But I think, that seeing Thursday say he's given up all his principle for love, "He was nothing...Not mine," just like Rosamund Stromming (who gives up her music for her marriage! then kills for it), he sees how he's compromised his other principles for it ("Someone else's son,"), and it burns him. Both love and justice are ideals that he's failed. I do think, if you think about this way, it is actually a suicide shot (paralleling Stromming?) : both that it kills anything inside of him to love, and he can't live with the either / or. Which is why the "Tempest" as Meta monologue happens, then the Faure.

2. How does this square with Morse the idealist in book canon?

But I was reading your post (@too-antigonish) re the big reveal to Strange at the end of The Remorseful Day. link here And RL does mention somewhere writing with this scene in mind for the finale. One of the reasons I come down with the suicide angle is two bits from that section: the first is Strange describing about Morse "And he said exactly what I said to you a few minutes ago: nothing—nothing—that happened then had affected the inquiry in the slightest way." I think we can see the parallel here in the situation with Luisa Armstrong in Trove: her letter to Thursday wouldn't have affected the coroner in anyway / he doesn't summon Thursday to the crime scene. "And the other bit is "He [Morse] once told me [Strange] that the guiltiest he ever felt in his life was when a couple of the lads saw him flicking through a girlie magazine in the Summer-town newsagent’s." 3. It doesn't seem to fit. Morse is clearly upset / angry / guilty about what he's done just as much as what Thursday as done. And clearly did affect the inquiry, obviously.

AH! Obviously still really struggling with trying to make sense of this episode. I would love to hear what you think!

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xxi

featuring: exeunt iii

Thursday is coded as Cyril Morse: (1) he's associated twice with Horatius, from Lays of Ancient Rome, once in a voice-over and secondly when he quotes it in the beginning of the ep. According to book!canon, "he [Morse's father] could recite all of Macaulay’s Lays of Ancient Rome by heart;" second, Morse pays off his debt; third, he's having heart trouble, which Thursday brushes off with "a turn or something," exactly what Cyril says in Home. (Of course, by the end of the episode, we also see the other Thursdays coded as family for Morse: Sam shares his news, Joan hugs him, Mrs. Thursday gives him a Wed Special)

I'm still trying to understand the ending: I do think this is one of the places where it's supposed to be vaguely ambiguous, but the more you think about it the more it dissolves into a incoherent mush--I think trying to shove BV and a COW and Thursday into 90 minutes was WAY too much. I also think the ending is problematic because: -in order to make this work, we have to totally ignore the fact that 7e3 happened -we have to make the leap that Morse went out to meet Lott but was saved by the deus ex machina Bikers and only then told them about Tomahawk / Lott -- I think if we decide that Morse told them beforehand as insurance, he has actually committed premeditated murder. Which obviously would make him morally culpable than Thursday. And I find the coherence of this ending problematic: either we have Morse be innocent but saved by the narrative, or guilty of conspiring to murder and justified by the narrative. -magically, Morse has re-recovered his idealism from s8e2: then it was Morse insisting that Sian was "nothing to anyone" and Thursday arguing, even as the lone man, she was "something to us," something to "me at any rate." Part of my problem with this is that, up to this point, we have seen Thursday put everything on the line for that principle: up to and including his career, his marriage. How many times has he nearly died for it? Well, half a dozen at least in canon. Except his children -- but I can't believe we're supposed to think that Thursday should let himself or Sam be stabbed to death.

- Thursday arrives at exactly the right time for Sam to still be in the toilets and to nearly be stabbed to death -I do think that the distinction between the actual stabbing and the cover-up needed to be more delineated in the show. One of the big problems I have here is that the cover-up, according to what we're shown or told, is totally unnecessary. Sam was still in the toilet. Are we supposed to think that Thursday is trying to protect his son from...being a witness? From being found out doing drugs?-- altho if he was just a witness (which he is), that would be fairly easy to obfuscate--the episode establishes the Biker gang are very capable of indiscriminate violence. Or are we supposed to think that Thursday is terrified of being arrested for murder? If it's supposed to parallel Neverland, that is. Or Sam being arrested for murder? But again, that assumes that Thursday wouldn't step up and say he did it, which he clearly tells Morse. -the reveal of Raymond Kennett as Peter Williams seems like a plot device to pile on emotional angst but not actually do anything. We couldn't have gotten that Jakes reveal scene??? -I honestly feel like either leaning into this situation: ie, having Thursday cover up that Sam did kill Tomahawk might have worked better? Or just having Thursday die.

-The problem with making the forces of Corruption so powerful and evil in this series that Corruption has totally sealed up BV, and will be able to shut it down again. Driven Thursday out of London 2x -- with the threat of death on his head. And yet, it turns out to be Lott, whose easily dealt with. It just doesn't work for me. And yet another narrative trope I really don't like: the Corruption is so widespead so evil that they can't trust anybody else. Except, we know that's not true in canon (ie DCI MacNutt) so it's just a narrative convenience. -the Conga trauma line that takes place in s9 to make this happen, on top of what has already happened to Thursday in the whole series + and his own traumatic backstory makes this seem totally character-breaking. On the one hand, we have Thursday saying over and over again that he will do anything for his family, but in order to make it believable in the show, so many separate things have to be applying pressure at once it seems a lot like character derailment: he's leaving Morse, he's totally burnt-out, actual trauma of BV where he nearly died being reopened, he's ill, Charlie, Sam, actual murder attempt. -Strange never manages to mention his wife's name or Thursday's (his FIL!) name's ever again. Neither does DeBryn -- even though they have no reason not to. Everyone in canon forget they exist. (Yeah, I'm playing around in a v meta way here, but also I think if you decide to anchor the Thursdays so strongly in canon, you have to expect that!)

-Yeah, he can forgive Violetta actually murdering people but not Thursday defending himself and his family. QED.

[the-aleator]

Endeavour musings, xx

Featuring: Exeunt ii

MORSE: "Is that it?" CONDUCTOR: "That's it."

One of the little moments at the beginning of Exeunt I really noticed is when Bright is talking to Thursday about BV, and Bright asks Thursday if he knew about Jakes, and Thursday says "Not when we were working together....Nor, obviously, when what happened… happened." Thursday can't even talk about it--what happened to him at BV. When he keeps asking Morse to shut it down or let it go, he keeps reminding him that Morse's life is on the line. He never says: I was shot and nearly died. Bright says it; Morse keeps seeing it in his head. We can clearly see that it makes him afraid. Yet it's only the threat to his family / Morse that makes him shut the case down. And he can't or won't say that about Tomahawk either: that he was going to stab him. He has to say about his "turn" that he's fine. Just the level of trauma here...it gives you this sense that Thursday doesn't think himself worth defending. I just wish the show had been a bit more compassionate about the Thursdays in s9.

I love everything about DeBryn in this episode, from having many handkerchiefs to the "flesh" line in the pub. He's "married to the mortuary."

3. I do get that Thursday is the only possible final heartbreak for Morse, I can see that in the ending--and yes, him living and estranged is the Worst of All Possible Endings. But also, I don't really agree with that for either Book! or Thaw! Morse.

4. The fact that Morse doesn't take Bright up on his offer to send him over to McNutt at the old Cowley station. So what now, Canon? 5. I can really really admire RL's dedication to the story he was telling between Morse and Thursday: all the foreshadowing, the missed chances, back to s1. I do think he had to stretch the character arcs and play too much with Fate to make that happen to make me happy. 6. Yeah, I'm here rooting for Dorothea Frazil and Max DeBryn.

7. Is this a story about love?

[the-aleator]

endeavour musings xix

featuring: Exeunt i

MORSE: "Is that it?" CONDUCTOR: "That's it."

1. I just watched this last night, and the rest of the season in the last week or so. This is probably not the only thing I'll write on this (and the show as a whole), but I had to write something because, well, that's it. So, you can call this a bit of a first impressions post, reacting in the cooldown of the moment. And honestly? I'm a bit disappointed. And hurt -- if I'm allowed to be such a thing about a fictional show with made-up characters. One of the lessons you learn as a musician is that what the audience remembers is the beginning and the end: those are the two bits you have to land and land well. And Exeunt? Well, it's a bit of a mess isn't it? Every time I start thinking about it, I feel the need to launch a separate monograph, so I'll just stick to what's churning the most. Caveat lector.

2. Fred Thursday is not a murderer. He absolutely killed Tomahawk, but what is clearly depicted on screen is self defence. Tomahawk has verbally threatened Sam, he has a knife out, Thursday tells him to be "on [his] way" and Tomahawk replies he'll "do for the pair of them," and tries to stab Thursday. Thursday at this moment is unarmed, has not provoked him or threatened him--he has no intention of killing him. We later learn that Tomahawk in particular has two convictions for GBH, and is wanted for attempted murder. Thursday is more than twice his age, clearly ill, and under an immense amount of stress. Thursday even calls it "instinct." What little we are shown is absolutely self defence. The fact that even TvTropes lists Thursday as having "murdered" Tomahawk ! There are a lot of other unvoiced problems I have with this scenario, but the fact that the show managed to leave this ambiguous for viewers really bugs me. Laying everything else about Thursday aside, I don't think Morse would ever cover up an actual murder or attempted murder. Even for Thursday.  

3. Yes, the Requiem, Morse closing his heart forever, everyone is dead to him, etc etc. I'm not trying to be trivial, I did think it was a beautiful fitting meta ending, but also, I do think it doesn't really work. Do I think it's a lovely mirror action of the Pilot? Absolutely. Do I think it works as a last scene? Yes. Is it beautiful? Yes. But does it wooooork to cast off Endeavour for IM? For me? No. The man who is IM tries over and over to let people in; to the point where his desperation blinds him to people who are murderers (should I say especially murderesses?). His old university professors, his old friends, random drunks he meets in pubs, the old guy around the corner with his car, Adele, Strange, Lewis. He still loves Joyce, and eventually his niece / nephew. He has an extended correspondence all over the world. Whatever he thinks of Gwen (you know, the stepmother who drove him to think about suicide as a teenager, and contributed to his serious drinking problem in Scherzo), he still helps take care of her in a nursing home. This is not a man who's closed his heart forever. 

4. The way the show treats Morse's alcoholism and Sam's alcoholism / drug problem or dealing. I'm sorry, but what? Magical wand waved, and Morse has managed to get sober, go back to drinking but only in an as-needed way as the plot demands? The same thing with Sam, he's been wandering around in a drunken stupor for three episodes but now magically, at the end, he's bright-eyed, cleaned up and going to join the police. I do think this is a serious flaw of this season, and of the show as a whole, standing in the shadow of both Book!Morse and Thaw!Morse, where alcoholism is treated in a much more realistic and sophisticated way. 

5. Justice and redemption: these have been our key motifs throughout the seasons. I do think part of the issue with Exeunt for me on a philosophical level is the loss of exactly what thrilled and consoled me about Deguello. Which is that Morse finally has to face up to the fact that ideal justice isn't possible. It's not just the dilemma with Thursday either. We have Jakes too, who shows up at BV because " It's like half of me has always been here.  Half of me never left," and wanting to know about Peter Williams. And Morse (we assume) can't tell him for the same reason he can't tell Thursday: because Peter Williams was dead a long time ago. He can never "find" him for Jakes. He can never get justice for either Peter. Half of Peter Jakes will always be at BV. In some sense, it's just like Morse all over: justice for the dead is an answer that can be gotten because the dead no longer have questions, or change, or live. They are a book to be read, a puzzle to be solved. But in Deguello, into that gap -- which is always there, in justice-- stepped mercy and the hope of redemption.  Box: "The world is bent.  Always has been. We can't fix it." Thursday:  "We can try." We don't get that hope here -- and that's what feels like a kick in the teeth about this ending. Justice, suum cuique, is impossible, and thus drives away Morse. There is no redemption; this death is the end. 

6. Morse is once again saved by the narrative. Those bikers just neatly showed up so Morse never has to kill anyone. I don't know how many times I've pointed this out over the course of 36 episodes, but unlike Thursday, Morse is never faced with that final dilemma: it's always taken away from him by deus ex machina.  Even in this episode: Lott shoots at Thursday, and he has to defend his brother and himself. There's no one to save him. Tomahawk tries to stab him and Sam, and he has to defend himself. There's no one to save him. And yet, Morse is saved here just like every other single time Morse is saved by the narrative. 

7. The Joan / Morse plotline and wedding fantasy. I didn't think they put in the work to show us a happy Joan/Strange wedding but making it Morse-centric really is something else.

8.  One of the themes about this episode / season in particular is straight out of 1850 and I Do Not Like It. We've learned, over the course of 9 seasons, that Thursday's background is the worst in the show (save perhaps Jakes). His father was an abusive alcoholic, he grew up in extreme poverty in the East End (an outside privy, "one for every eight houses. 20 families." Quartet), and as a result of that he is personally known to many of the villains who come from the East End: Vic Kasper, Eddie Nero, Ken Drury, Mickey Flood. Arthur Lott, the Big Bad, is his former bagman. Charlie, his brother, is responsible for involving him in a long term fraud ("My whole life. Everything I've worked for. You've dragged me into the sewer." Icarus), which as of Exeunt was revealed to be a blind, just so Lott would have something on Thursday--we're not actually sure how much Charlie is involved but he clearly has serious connections to Lott ( Lott: "It's only being Charlie's brother that's kept you above ground.") Thursday is betrayed and stolen from by Charlie btw s5-s9, and Sam in s9; his life savings are all gone. This giant messy web of corruption eventually sucks Thursday in: he's trapped by it and as a result, shuts down BV and also covers up Tomahawk's death. It's that old Victorian favorite: Poor People Have No Moral Fiber. Perhaps it's not on purpose? But there's a definite correlation between working class poverty and corruption here with a fatalism that I don't like.  9. I promise there are things I liked, even loved about this final show: I just need to wait out the frustrated heartsickness of it first. And I have no doubt I'm going to write more about it. And I will absolutely defend that every single actor in this was magnificent, but particular shout-outs to James Bradshaw, Sara Vickers, Anton Lesser, Roger Allam and Shaun Evans. 

[the-aleator]

@too-antigonish Just watched Uniform, so I get to add to this post:

Thursday is absolutely using his Staff Sergeant Thursday voice when he responds to Bright in this scene at Blenheim Vale:

BRIGHT: Did you know about this, Thursday? THURSDAY: Certainly, Sir.

And also, I note at the 1:25 minute mark, when they go back out to Blenheim Vale again, and Bright makes his declaration, "We'll have the truth, whatever the cost," Thursday's right hand is either once again shaking or he's fiddling with his fingers.

endeavour musings iv

featuring: Fred Thursday's PTSD / CPTSD 1. Fugue, s1e2 Everything about this scene is perfect: Morse + Thursday subdue Gull; Bright shows up to ask if everything is under control and Thursday, on autopilot, fixes his hair + hat, tie, suit jacket, and says, "More or less, sir." After Gull gets his parting shot, Thursday picks up his -- now broken-- pipe and his hands (particularly his right) are shaking. Morse definitely picks up on this, ? if Bright does. His whole stance is that of a man in shock. 2. Prey, s2e3 After attacking Hodges, we get Thursday, in his office (? Achilles in his tent?). The framing device of Thursday's office window is such a lovely subtle choice -- mirroring a frequent stylistic choice in hospital dramas -- usually the outside looking in on the patient, but in this case the side profile and slow pan down to see Thursday's hands, his right shaking violently.

It's definitely not a coincidence either that the scene immediately following this one is the discovery of where the tiger has been kept, in a cage. It's Thursday's right hand that trace over the tiger's claw marks, and then he says:

THURSDAY: It's hardly big enough to house a dog in. MORSE: Poor creature must have been driven half mad.

10/10 for Morse's line being a voice-over on a shot of Thursday looking down and finding Inid's dress, covered in blood. 3. Coda, s3e4 I've never before noticed that Thursday actually is pressing the point of his dart into Peter Matthew's neck when he attacks with a beer bottle. I'm fairly convinced that the dart flipping after this scene is meant to be an effective distraction for his hand shaking -- except then we get Thursday's Cough of Death.

But then we get Thursday's roughing up his Snout, and the gun-fighting at the bank: no hand shaking. But I would argue, judging by the way Thursday yells "Sergeant Strange," he is effectively back in the war--the whole episode is just one a pile-on of new!trauma bringing up old trauma. 4. Apollo, s6e2 Immediately after Thursday getting beaten up, we get DCI Box giving him Scotch! and Light Duties!, and oh yes, DCI Box does notice Thursday that your right hand is shaking.

Also, I know Endeavour aims more for the stylized theatrical than on the side of realism, but Thursday is a Man of Iron, for being able to walk off a pick handle and a thorough kicking. (Seriously though: human ribs are actually fairly fragile.)

Which also brings up the really big question in my mind: we never get anything from Win on this! honourable mentions to:

Prey, +100 pts to Bright for being the only lovely person to realize "He hasn't been right since Blenheim Vale" and to say to Thursday's face:

BRIGHT: There isn't a man in this station who will gainsay it but you [Thursday] need to rest and keep your checkups.

A pity that Endeavour is a hurt/comfort show that is aaaalll out of comfort by ... season 2? 2. Ride, s3e1: the full-on body flinch response to being "fake" shot as part of the Great Zambezi's trick.

3. Cartouche, s5e2: staggering out of the burning theater with Morse like two soldiers hobbling off the front line. And then we get a shot of Thursday's right hand and Trilby, still covered in soot, in Bright's office.

4. Coda, s3e4: Thursday reaching for Joan's hand after the bank; and the only shot we've gotten so far of Thursday hand-in-hand with Win afterwards.

[the-aleator]

Your thinking here on the sex / marriage / divorce theme I think is spot-on. But I also think they tried to do WAY too much here and what might have been compelling ambiguity disappears into incoherency under a mess of plotlines. (I also really don't love how the Baz-Del O'Grady plotline is yet again tied to a plot device DV victim.) I also wish they had picked up on the line that the window-washer says to Thursday re his bad temper, "Isn't he getting any?" because honestly that would have been a great tie-in to whatever-the-heck has supposed to have been happening in the Thursday marriage since s6 and also a contrast w/ the London sex shop scene.

There's a great contrast to with all the paintings in this episode which I wish had been more a thematic motif: we get Morse and Thursday looking at Bright's art, Thursady gets a good 30 second stare at the Night Watch, Bright obviously. I do think this a huge weakness of building the Masons up as the ultimate / penultimate? evil of the show: it leaves Strange's character out in the cold somewhere, and also (I now assume) Joan. Even OGShow!Strange and Book!Strange are supposed to be decent, bumbling, bureaucracy focused, cleverer-than-you-think-they-are matey. He wouldn't tolerate being part of a cabal, even for his ambition. I would love for a Thursday in London show. Direct me to the petition! The Semaphore could have been OTT in such a good Colin Dexter way. I do think it could have been made to make more sense, but I guess it was a vestigal part of the mystery that was originally more important. Yes, that scene with Strange was beautiful.

endeavour musings, xvii

featuring: Scherzo (s8e2)

Gwen, the evil Stepmother with a twist of Hyacinth Bucket. Pretty much the star of this whole episode. She's so real: spiteful and petty and overbearing, she's the Dolores Umbridge of Endeavour.

This is one of those episodes that would be twice as good with half the references. Also, the Nudist camp? RL says this episode is supposed to be a commentary on sexuality, so I do see how that would fit in with blue films and "living in sin" themes of this episode, but I also think Gwen is a weird B plot if so.

Pauline Lunn is a fantastic character and I wanted to see way more of her.

Suddenly + randomly Thursday is talking about his kids to everyone. I get that it's to remind us that Sam exists since it's going to be the big climax of S8 and we haven't seen in him...(checks wiki)...3 years. But also, seems careless there, Fred.

There's being clever with your references, and so on the nose that they're cringeworthy. For me, Mark Lunn as an exact duplicate of Morse's past is exactly that. I just find it unbearable clumsy--I can see what RL was trying to do, it just doesn't work for me at all.

featuring Fred Thursday's Traumatic Backstory

MORSE: What will he have had in his wallet, £10, £15, £20? Would you kill someone for that? THURSDAY: I've seen people killed for less.

7. I find the Strange-Joan date strangely compelling. Honestly, though, since Joan is a lot like Thursday, Strange is supposed to be the Win in this pairing: which he sort of suits?

8. "I didn't kill her." And the direct contrast with Win afterwards?!? Is this not the best scene in the last 2 series? ME: why did they so underuse Gwen???

9. Now would be a good time to leave the Masons, Jim. Has it been 3 Grandmasters killed or implicated in 7 years? But they "do a lot of charity work." Please tell me we get some justification that Strange needs to keep a lookout on the inside or something. 10. Thursday in London! Okay, yep, yep, death threat, return death threat, the perfect enunciation of those hard 'c's in "I don't care whose coat you're carrying." 11. I think the semaphore plotline is totally ridiculous but I actually like it a lot and wish it had been more used. 12. Oooh the scene at the end. There's so much to unpack there! [Placeholder for thinking about that here]. +150 pts to Thursday for a great Dad pun.

[the-aleator]

Thank you very much for your nuanced argument! You've helped me to clarify my own thinking. I think your last point, that the female characters are really never given interiority, is bang-on. It's what's driving my frustration with the believability of Joan going to Morse for help. On one hand, if I accept Joan as a flat character w no interiority, accept also the Morse-centric nature of the show, then yes, I do find it believable. She is absolutely ashamed of her circumstances, and I do think she goes to him not only because he won't judge her but also because he's already been established as a character who won't do anything.

But I also find it unbelievable in the sense that Joan has been set up to a rounded character, and as a viewer, I don't like the sense that infamous Russell Lewis Emotional Manipulation:tm: is going on re yet another female character. For example, we know from s1 that she thinks Ronnie Gidderton at the bank is a wet drip; we know she's worked at the bank for 4 years and has friends there. Then, in all her options, she only (so far as we know) contacts Morse: which we only ever see or hear from Morse's side of things. Even the usage of mirrors for interiority is only ever used for Morse in Joan's apartment (and later Thursday).

I guess I just find it bothersome that the only female character who does get a sense of interiority is Dorothea Frazil. I just feel that much more could have been done with Win and Joan.

I really enjoy reading your Endeavour musings. I was particularly interested in your reference to Joan's DV as a plot device as I agree wholeheartedly. I was hoping you could go into your thinking a little bit more about that. In my view, it felt like Joan's DV and miscarriage/abortion was used just as a setting for more Joan/Morse angst (the "marry me" scene was not romantic in the least, to me, and actually signaled how tone-deaf Endeavour was to think that what Joan needed in that moment of vulnerability and hurt at the hands of a man she was in relationship with was a romantic overture by another man) and focused entirely on how Morse felt than on how Joan felt.

I absolutely agree that the scene is focused on how Morse feels, in that moment, seeing her as victim of DV, and yes, his offer is very tone-deaf. I think Sara Vickers does her best to counterbalance the scene, but it's absolutely Morse-centric (in both cinematography and emotional emphasis) -- about how her refusal devastates him, and I don't love it for that reason.

One of the reasons I see Joan's DV as a plot device is that it seems both unnecessary and gratuitous. It seems to be there just for Angst level. We never get any exploration of her trauma from being at the bank, because the DV trauma is heaped on-top and takes the focus. I also think it cheapens the way that Ray is taking advantage of her: a situation that was devastating in itself (Thursday's monologue in Muse springs to mind). Speaking of Thursday, I vaguely see RL's connection about the circle of violence: Thursday beating up Ray leads to Ray beating Joan and how it parallels and contrasts the other plots in Harvest; Seth killing Laxman for being "quick with a back-hander;" and Donald Bagley not wanting to commit violence because he "love[s]" peace and his wife more than killing. It's all very neatly done. But I'm a firm believer that significance of stories work when they build on real situations and people: so the disconnect between that here bothers me.

(I also question the believability of Ray beating Joan when he now has intimate knowledge that her father (1) knows where she is (2) knows who he is (3) has handily beaten him up (4) threatened to have him arrested as a pedophile.) Lastly, the very fact that Joan turns to Morse for safety and help, I feel is played because it's Morse-centric. Joan is an intelligent, strong-minded, stubborn woman who comes from a stable middle class background. Even if she "can't" go home (another point I find v unbelievable -- her mother wouldn't take her back?), she has no female friends who would help her? Or other support network? I'd be very interested in anyone's else take on the Joan & DV plot; I find it an unfortunate example of how RL struggles to write female characters.