missannethropist

Posts Tagged ‘feminism’

Buddy Girls

In miss thropist, screenshots, tv kicks on March 8, 2012 at 8:39 am

Betty and Veronica, Bes Friends

Happy International Women’s Day! If ever there was a day appropriate for expressing righteous feminist ire, I think that it’s today. As well as ALL THE OTHER ONES.

What I’d particularly like to gripe about right now is the lack of buddy girl movies. There are loads of films about two men, often with opposite personalities, having wacky adventures. In a way they kind of function as the male version of the rom-com.

Humpday still

Now I don’t dislike rom-coms per se, some are even quite good (When Harry Met SallyNo Strings AttachedFour Weddings and a Funeral10 Things I Hate About YouKnocked UpForgetting Sarah Marshall and Bridget Jones’s Diary to name a reasonably inoffensive few) and in general they do exactly what they say on the tin. They’re funny stories about finding love. And that’s fine. Read the rest of this entry »

Pretty Women

In fasc-ion, Mrs Dee Fine, tv kicks on March 8, 2012 at 8:32 am

Rosie the Riverter, "We Can Do It!"

The proposal for a special day to celebrate the value, struggles and rights of women across the world was made by Luise Zietz and Clara Zetkin in 1910. Inequality of pay, conditions and the status of women at work runs parallel to the sexual exploitation of women, especially through the media.

On an individual level, legal, social and political issues challenge us as women daily in our lives still.

My grandmother, who died in 1972, lived as a supporter of women’s rights. “I remember when people only had aeroplanes as a mad idea in their minds”, she told me one day when I was thinking of dropping History and she was talking me out of it.

“All these thin women these days look as though they’ve agreed to only be half alive,” she told me in the mid-sixties when Twiggy was hugely influential in moulding the thin body as the best shape for women.  In 2012, fashions are still very much created for this thin ideal.

Twiggy picture from 1960s

Read the rest of this entry »

In Search Of The Centre of the Universe

In bookmark, miss thropist, pcp news, screenshots, tv kicks on March 4, 2012 at 12:01 pm

Cat Stevens - The Search album cover from In Search of The Centre of the Universe boxset

Welcome to the latest Search Term Sunday! Take a peek at what people have been googling to end up here in the last couple of weeks, sit back, and giggle away.

dean in supernatural cars

Supernatural‘s Dean ended up in a truly supernatural car when his brother was transformed into a Chevy Impala version of Knight Rider. Good times:

 

matilda the movie pancakes

How very topical, given that it was Pancake Day not long ago! Read the rest of this entry »

Make Me Feel Like I’m the Only Girl in the World

In good vibrations, miss barista on January 3, 2012 at 3:27 pm

I have a few issues with Rihanna. Mostly that she’s the same age as me, is a multi-millionaire, award-winning recording artist and has achieved more than I ever will.

Also, not to be a prude, but the sex thing. Seriously. No-one needs to hear a song that has the line ‘sex in the air , I don’t care. I love the smell of it.’ Ew.

Yes, you’re a bit sexy. Men like you. But could you stop with this? It’s pandering and it’s even more irritating than the stupidly sexual outfits you wear on stage.

Now, okay, I’ve started this with a negative. I’m sure lots of people would say that Rihanna is just taking advantage of the media, that is declaring that she’s a young woman who loves sex, and that’s her right as a feminist. Read the rest of this entry »

Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older…?

In Mrs Dee Fine, screenshots, techno, tv kicks on August 30, 2011 at 6:18 pm

“old”

Old is a negative word – unless we’re talking about a vintage wine or valuable antique – but to be old is just not considered good in the Western word.

I’d love to be told about a sitcom, film or documentary that has a focus on what it really feels like to be old rather than to merely inhabit the body, and to carry the preconceptions our society has of ‘an old person’.

An 83-year-old woman told me yesterday that she has no idea yet about what it feels like to be old. However, for at least half the population of the western world, old is what happens to you after about 33 years of age.

The age pressure on woman is greater – the biological clock, inequality of opportunity and the lack of positive comments from our TV, films and books about being an older women.

How rare is it  for menopause, for example, to be projected as positive? Why do we so rarely see scenes of women discussing it openly, especially discussing it as something natural as opposed to completely awful? Read the rest of this entry »

Get Your Rosaries Off My Ovaries

In miss thropist, screenshots, tv kicks on July 10, 2011 at 11:53 pm

I was at the Pro-Choice Demo in London on Saturday and, like many of the other attendees, I didn’t quite understand why I was there.

There was an overwhelming sense that this battle had already been fought and won. The fact that we’re having to have this argument baffles me, and it’s left me at a rather uncharacteristic loss for words.

So I thought that instead of trying to eloquently make the points that abortion is a right and a choice, and that restricting access to abortion doesn’t stop women seeking and having them- it just stops women from having safe abortions, I’d let a couple of films do the talking for me.

Both the 2007 Romanian film 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days and the British Vera Drake from 2004 address these issues: Read the rest of this entry »

Sunny Sundays are here again

In miss thropist, pcp news on April 10, 2011 at 3:13 pm

We really are getting on for summer, the sun is genuinely shining and the weather is sweet.

It’s nice to be able to enjoy the weekend out on the grass, rather than being holed up inside piling on the layers just to feel like you’re not turning into a person-shaped icicle.

I hope that you’ve all been having hot fun in the sun, but when you eventually make your way back inside (the evenings aren’t yet quite as warm as I’d like them to be, let me tell you) there’ll still be a Search Term Sunday for your perusal each week.

Join us as we try to puzzle out what exactly it is that people are looking for when they end up here- and whether the weirdest googling can be blamed on sunstroke or daytime drinking.

Read the rest of this entry »

Through the Glass Ceiling, and Beyond

In miss thropist, screenshots on April 4, 2011 at 12:24 pm

Through the Glass Ceiling was one of my favourite- if not my very favourite- childhood films.

I was extremely excited when I discovered that the Leeds Animation Workshop had released it on DVD, as my multiple VHS copies had taken some serious beatings from re-watchings.

Becoming reacquainted with the story and characters all over again convinced me that I hadn’t been attaching fond childhood memories to my feelings about the film, it really is that fantastic.

This was proven even further when I set about luring as many people as I could up to my bedroom, simply to force them to watch it.

It’s a totally rewarding hobby- everyone laughs in all the right places and gets gleeful that anything this awesome exists at all. Read the rest of this entry »

Top 40

In bookmark, fasc-ion, good vibrations, ms elaine e. ouse, screenshots, tv kicks on March 8, 2011 at 4:04 pm

Happy Women’s Day!

It’s also the start of Lent, for which this year, having mostly quit smoking already, I am giving up misogyny.

If you would like to do this too, here are daily activities for the duration of Lent to keep us all focused.

Lent 2011 starts the day after Pancake Day, which is Wednesday 9th March. It continues for 46 days until Saturday 23rd April.

In Western Christianity Lent begins on Ash Wednesday and concludes on Holy Saturday. The six Sundays in Lent are not counted among the forty days of Lent because each Sunday represents a “mini-Easter”, a celebration of Jesus.

If you feel that you do need activities for each Sunday during feminist Lent you may meditate and practice your mantra ‘I must not be a misogynist, I must not be a misogynist’.

And of course, make the pledge: swear off Disney porn for the duration of Lent.

Read the rest of this entry »

High Heels and Low Corsets

In fasc-ion, ms elaine e. ouse on February 22, 2011 at 1:58 pm

For the last week or so I have been staring at everybody’s shoes. I really like shoes.

It’s not a fetish thing, although please don’t think that I don’t like fetishism. Especially if shoes are involved.

I was asked last week why anyone would ever go out in high heels in London at all.

I do see that it is madness- there’s so much time spent on squishy tubes and lurching night buses, and sometimes you’re expected to face cobbles.

But then conversation turned to whether high heels are anti-feminist.

My grandma (Feminist icon #1) speaks about having to make meals and be treated like dirt, whilst also feeling that she was expected to be on stupid, painful stilts. Read the rest of this entry »

Looking through a glass onion

In miss thropist, screenshots on November 28, 2010 at 6:09 pm

Reichstag Dome, Berlin (Miss Thropist)

Rediscovering forgotten gems from your childhood can be absolutely magical. Almost effortlessly you’re transported back to a simpler world, and you get to experience something akin to the childlike wonder and adoration you once felt.

Of course rediscovery can also be a double-edged sword. You might think that something you loved in your younger days was fantastic, but taking it in again without the rose-coloured spectacles of youth can be pretty disappointing.

That’s why I was a little nervous when I popped my brand spanking new Through the Glass Ceiling DVD in. (Well I was also a bit stressed cos my DVD drive had randomly stopped working earlier that day, stupid Windows 7 glitch, but I managed to fix it in MS-DOS cos I’m totes a genius.)

Through the Glass Ceiling, all seventeen minutes of it, may very well be my favourite film of all time- but I hadn’t seen it for years. What if it didn’t live up to my (very high) expectations? What if my own personal mythology was about to be ruined?

My grandmother was the one who first showed it to me, and I loved it so much I watched it over and over- and over- again. I wore out the tape and she got a friend to sneakily use college resources to make me another copy- more than once.

I probably wasn’t the core audience that the Leeds Animation Workshop had aimed their short films at. I believe they are designed to be primarily used at training sessions and conferences- to illustrate and facilitate discussion of the issues raised. Through The Glass Ceiling is mostly concerned with equal opportunities at work.

The name is obviously a take off of Through The Looking-Glass, Lewis Carroll’s sequel to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, although the film doesn’t specifically reference Alice. Instead it effortlessly blends together aspects from various fairy tales- including Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, Little Red Riding Hood, and The Snow Queen- to tell the story of Princess Ella’s quest for a job.

The film tackles various issues that women may have in the workplace, such as poor career guidance, sexual harassment and the gender-salary gap, culminating with Ella taking on the titular Glass Ceiling. Although the film (and, I’m assuming, the literature that accompanies it) were made in 1994, these issues are far from being historical curiosities. Indeed the short still seems incredibly relevant, perhaps aided by the timeless quality of  familiar fairy stories.

This mash-up and re-appropriation of traditional tropes is brilliantly done. I love it all, from Princess Ella throwing away her bloody painful glass slippers, to her singing “Some day my promotion will come” to herself. It’s the perfect antidote to every Disney-esque sanitised version of a fairy tale.

I’d recommend this film to everyone- I enjoyed it as a child, and just as much as an adult. The writing is slick and clever, the hand-drawn animation is sweet and soothing, and Alan Bennett’s narration is fantastic. You can order it from the Leeds Animation Workshop’s website, along with all their other films. At £40 (or £20 to those based in Leeds!) it might seem a little steep,  but I do think it’s worth it. Plus it does come complete with discussion notes, which flesh out the issues touched on it the film, it’s as if Princess Ella’s Report on the Economics of the Glass Ceiling was published.

Personally I’m hoping on being able to treat myself to a copy of the sequel, No Offence, soon. Again it’s an animated fairy story narrated by Alan Bennett, but this one deals with harassment at work- looking at sexism, racism and homophobia. Although it is Chrismukkah soon- I think I may start hinting to absolutely everyone that it would make the perfect stocking filler for me!

Another year, another Disney Princess

In miss penn, screenshots on January 10, 2010 at 3:51 pm

The Princess and the Frog’s Tiana is notable as Disney’s first African-American princess. She’s also a timely heroine, a role model for a generation of children growing up during a global financial crisis.

Hard-working, independent and carefully saving to realize an honorable dream – owning her own restaurant – she contrasts with the film’s villain, a tricky witchdoctor willing to rack up huge debts in an attempt to accrue money and power. She also teaches a charming prince – Naveen, a spoiled playboy – that the best things in life can’t be bought, a worthy if cliched message.

Since 1937, with its first full-length feature film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the Disney company has presented a succession of “princesses”, some actual royalty such as Sleeping Beauty‘s Aurora, others simply admirable such as Mulan.

These princesses remain highly popular today: Disney’s official “Princess” merchandise line which encompasses nine characters – Snow White, Cinderella, Aurora, Ariel, Belle, Jasmine, Pocahontas, Mulan, Tiana – is one of the largest girls’ franchises on the planet, raking in billions of dollars annually.

Opinion remains divided over this enduring princess mania – some see it as disturbingly anti-feminist, others appreciate the wholesome contrast to their precociously sexy counterparts like the Bratz dolls.

What is conclusive, though, is that all Disney’s leading ladies are a product of their times. Here, we take a light-hearted look at Tiana’s princess predecessors, charting their evolution from passive sleeping beauties to resourceful champions.

1937: Snow White

Like The Princess and the Frog, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs debuted amid a worldwide economic depression – The Great Depression, in fact. For the heinous crime of being beautiful, Snow White’s jealous stepmother attempts to murder her – luckily, the exquisite 14-year-old is saved repeatedly by men: a sympathetic woodsman, the seven dwarfs, a prince with apparently smelling-salts-like breath.

Inherently maternal and fond of housework, she wins over the prince in a passive fashion, first with her singing (what would prove to be a typical Disney man-catching move) and then by sleeping so beautifully. Hardly a proto-feminist, but no doubt her tale provided romantic relief from trying reality.

1950: Cinderella

Cinderella was also a victim of a wicked stepmother, with the unhappy addition of two ugly stepsisters. She’s a slave in her own home, responsible for countless chores – something 1950s American housewives could no doubt relate to – but still finds time to construct a lovely ballgown, albeit with the assistance of her little animal friends. She’s somewhat braver than Snow White – piping up to convince her stepmother that she too deserves to go to the ball – but ultimately, she’s reliant on her Fairy Godmother and Prince Charming to make her dreams come true – and she wins love with a pretty face and tiny feet.

1959: Aurora

With her looks based on Audrey Hepburn, Sleeping Beauty‘s Aurora is just as naive as some of the Hollywood legend’s most iconic characters. Raised in the woods by not one, but three fairy godmothers – who hope to prevent the dreadful fate a more malicious fairy assigned her – she longs for independence but remains obedient to her caretakers’ instructions, even fleeing the delicious Prince Phillip when she realizes he’s a stranger (and she mustn’t talk to those, nor take candy from them). Sadly their over-protection can’t prevent her from pricking her finger on a poisoned spindle; fortunately Phillip is more than willing to cut a swath through a thorny forest and give her the kiss of life. Then they instantly become engaged, fulfilling their royal parents’ long-time intentions for them to marry – it seems Aurora can’t dictate her own fate after all!

1989: Ariel

Thirty years after Sleeping Beauty awoke, Disney princesses finally became more proactive, reflecting more empowered times. Ariel, aside from being The Little Mermaid, is a typical teenager – rebellious and curious about the wider world. She’s willing to disobey her father, flirt with danger and make great sacrifices for a cute boy, in her case her singing voice for a pair of legs. Interestingly, she doesn’t succeed in winning over Prince Eric properly until she regains her voice, a sign that you need more than looks to get your man. Less interestingly, in her quest for independence, she simply trades one man for another – a father for a husband.

1991: Belle

Like Ariel, The Beauty and the Beast‘s Belle is a square peg in a round hole: a nonconformist and free thinker. She may be the most beautiful girl in the village, but she cares not one whit for looks, preferring books.

Her lack of superficiality is put to the test when she’s forced to cohabit with the Beast – to save her father – falling in love with him despite his fearsome exterior. The beauty and the Beast’s relationship is given more time to mature than in previous Disney films, with the latter having to win her over. Belle’s intelligence and willingness to fight for those she cares about make her a heroine worth emulating.

1992: Jasmine

Aladdin‘s Jasmine, a doe-eyed Arabian princess, was Disney’s first princess “of color”, and continues the free-spirited trend. She refuses to marry any of the shallow suitors on offer, running away from the palace to escape her fate and find adventure. Being unavoidably sheltered, she soon runs into problems, and is saved by the quick-thinking Aladdin, to whom she is drawn despite his poverty. In the end, she gains her longed-for volition, and naturally selects her magical-carpet-commanding “diamond in the rough”. This time, it’s the princess who whisks her lover to a better life.

1995: Pocahontas

Another ethnic leading lady, Pocahontas is the first American princess, based on the historical figure. More mature than previous heroines, Pocahontas is highly independent and attuned to nature, educating the initially arrogant John Smith about its value. If forced to engage in a fight with her fellow Disney leading ladies, she’d no doubt win hands down, displaying immense athleticism and magical, shamanic powers. Echoing Ariel and Belle, she saves her prince, at risk to herself. And in a break with tradition, there’s no happily ever after for Pocahontas and John Smith; instead of leaving with him to experience a whole new world (like Ariel would), she stays in her own, placing her people before her heart.

1998: Mulan

Pocahontas’ fiercest physical competition would be Mulan, who proves herself as a warrior, ultimately saving the whole of China through bravery and ingenuity, although she does have to resort to cross-dressing in the process. Disney’s first Asian princess promotes self-reliance, determination and is uninterested in marriage or romance.

Her attractiveness is almost a non-factor – refreshingly – and she is highly relatable for adolescent girls in her initial awkwardness and self-doubt. While she demonstrates considerable chemistry with the hunky Captain Li Shang, the film ends on her saving her country, rather than a romantic resolution.

Under some dirty words on a dirty wall

In bookmark, comical, miss thropist, tv kicks on November 3, 2008 at 2:41 pm

Although I know that it’s a little late, I’m pulling my finger out to make mah monthly monograph meander. Alright, I’ll acknowledge an alliteration addiction… ahem. Less of the monographs more of the novels, comics, essays and non-fiction books. Wonderful words, in others.

I enjoyed Howl’s Moving Castle more than I thought I would.

I know that when I was younger I was always eager to get my hands on any books I could, especially those that came from genres I knew that I liked such as fantasy, and this led to me becoming a sort of garbage disposal bin for the written word. Several relatives and family friends thought they could fling any books at me and I’d enjoy them, even if they really didn’t appeal to me or were very, very bad. My aunt used to do it too, since she’s a school librarian by trade she used to like using me as a booky guinea pig. Sometimes this had positive effects, I never would have read the first Harry Potter, at least not so early, if it hadn’t been foisted on me. The cover art was so ugly and I was so bored of books about troubled boys who became wizards that I stuck it right at the bottom of my to-read pile, and even did my fractions homework inside (in pencil at least). At other times it just annoyed me though, I think I have my aunt to thank for the fact that I can’t quite stand Michael Morpurgo or Phillip Pullman (maybe I just don’t like alliteration as much as I think I do), but I’m not quite sure I can blame her for DWJ too. Maybe I just mentally listed her with the other semi-insipid fantasy writers who just produced something standard that wasn’t overly-appealing after reading a dull introduction or something.

I think part of why I was suspicious of DWJ was that I was aware that she was one of those authors who included the mundane real world in her fantasy novels. I was never much of a fan of that kind of style when I was younger, I was captivated by fantastic worlds full of magic and mythical creatures. When reality was part of such a story it tended to encroach- to ruin the magic somewhat. Sure, there were some stories where it worked well- when the everyman (or more likely the everychild) character was plucked from reality and/or obscurity and set on a challenging yet rewarding path involving destiny, magical artifacts and terrible beasties most likely. However the majority of stories like that just didn’t overly appeal, maybe it’s just the examples that I happened upon tended to have been a little dated and often written for a primarily male readership. Whatever the reason I’d generally have preferred to read about dragons, elves, witches et al safely ensconced in their own world.

I have less of a problem with it now though. Maybe Harry Potter changed my mind, and maybe watching shows like Buffy and Supernatural played their part too. Perhaps I’m starting to like my heroes and quests a little more accessible, or at least a little more obviously allegorical. Approaching stories from a slightly academic perspective can be a little problematic. It’s difficult to purely indulge in escapism, or to just enjoy things in and of themselves. Something relatively simple holds its own charm.

So too do fairly simple explanations. To whit: I don’t think I would have understood that Howell was a Welsh rugby player. I found that twist almost charming when I read the book, but I think it would have gone over my head and therefore annoyed me if I’d read the book as a kid.

Either way I feel a little bad about it, as I definitely enjoyed the book. It seems to gently mock the conventions of the fantasy genre it belongs to, while not violently breaking away from it either. The sibling switcheroo amused me too, since it reminded me of Alanna and Thom doing so at the beginning of The Song of the Lioness quartet (three years earlier, might I add).

I preferred the book to the film, while the film version was enjoyable it had a slightly incomprehensible quality to it- as if there was more to the myth of it which I just didn’t have access to. For example the whole thing with the scarecrow and Prince Justin was fleshed out far more in the book, as was Sophie’s family situation. There were quite a few times in the film where things were simply stated without explanation which worked alright since it had a surreal style to it anyway, but that just were more satisfying when resolved properly. This is why I should always read the book first! The book is simpler because it’s more straight forward, and thus the characters are more understandable and likeable. I think this is a simply fun fantasy novel  but ultimately it won’t become a solid favourite.
Next I read Equality in Action: A Way Forward with Persona Dolls which was fabulouso, obviously, since I got an acknowledgement. If for some inexplicable reason you require more information than that, read on. My grandmother’s book (for that is what it is) is essentially a study of how Persona Dolls are and can be used as a part of children’s education that is truly inclusive and utilises anti-discriminatory practice. This topic is in no way related to my academic focus, and I have a very limited understanding of it. Nonetheless the book is written in a clear, concise and, above all, accessible manner which made it perfectly comprehensible to me.

It starts off with a wonderful MLK Junior quote, which almost didn’t make the cut because it was impossible to find the source for the damn thing (turned out to be Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution, FYI).

Cowardice asks the question, ‘Is it safe?’ Expediency asks the question, ‘Is it politic?’ Vanity asks the question, ‘Is it popular?’ But conscience asks the question, ‘Is it right?’ And there comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but one must take it because one’s conscience tells one that it is right.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.

[I feel like I ought to include a blanket 'sic' for the nonsense American punctuation.]

Sadly there is nothing in this world which provides an instant antidote to all the bollocks (see why I prefer the unsullied fantasy genre?), and the dolls aren’t capable of making everything automatically better. But the message is clear, as part of truly inclusive education they work; they help; they’re a useful tool. The world’s moved on too, but paying lip service to ideals of equality, fairness, multiculturalism etc aren’t enough. Educators actually have to be proactive, and to try to avoid pitfalls such as ‘celebrating diversity’ by perpetuating stereotypes. Certainly the (British) education system could do with being poked, prodded and generally (wo)man-handled, it’s riddled with contradictions and stupidity. All the multi-lingual ‘Welcome!’ posters in the world aren’t particularly useful if they’re not backed up by educator’s practice, and “community” languages are consistently devalued.

The way to make it better, in my opinion, is through questioning and encouraging others to do so too. The results of the study were quite shocking in some ways, basically many educators are running scared. They’re over stretched and often working without adequate training or resources. There were many cases of people who’d been on PD training, but who didn’t have the confidence to use the dolls in the classroom, and also many who only felt able to use the dolls to discuss fairly neutral issues rather than tackle issues of discrimination. I don’t think that I’d ever want to teach young children, it just feels like far too much responsibility. The idea of shaping somebody’s world view that much is daunting. But that’s what teachers do, and it’s why they have to step up and do it well; tackling whatever bullshit they come up against.

And maybe it’s just because I enjoy being an annoying little birdy who does this but I do think that teachers ought to be tackling exactly what is meant by slick and easy terms like “Black” (and “White”); “race”; “ethnicity”; “disabled”; “ethnic minority”; “gender”, and so on. Words do have importance and power, and this type are constantly abused; I find myself wanting to scream “that word doesn’t mean what you think it means” a little too frequently. (Point in case, I swear to you that none of these words mean the same thing: Korean, Asian, East Asian, Mongol. Also ‘foreigner’ doesn’t actually mean “everyone who isn’t Korean”.) I was driving my grandmother a little mad when she was writing her definitions of the terms Black and White, but as political categories they’re simply not straight forward. Sociologists often write about a (I want to say monochromatic but I think that might suggest something a bit more greyscale-y than what I mean) black-and-white world far removed from reality- this is not the kind of fantasy story I like, you can tell because of the absence of dragons. At the very least I expect footnotes explaining what is meant by ‘black’ and ‘white’, and/or an explanation as to why these were the only “ethnicities” included in yon study, research or rant. Furthermore these things aren’t static, Eastern Europeans and Latin Americans, for example, may be considered more or less ‘White’ on random whims. The whole idea of ethnicity is a dodgy one, but especially when you get those inane forms to fill in, in which apparently only non-white people have an ethnicity. I’ve taken to just ticking the ‘S’ box for other instead of writing ‘YOUR CATEGORIES MAKE SO LITTLE SENSE THAT I AM LAUGHING’ because I’m lazy. The use of the term ‘ethnic minorities’ tickles me a lot too, when it’s not applied to a specific situation or location. I’m going to argue that everyone who isn’t ethnically Chinese or Indian belongs to an ethnic minority, and then argue that the concept of ethnicity is fuzzy at best, and then smirk a lot. Possibly with booze.

I do enjoy being annoying, I’ll admit it. I don’t think I’ve ever met an argument I didn’t like, although sometimes I can’t be bothered to have the same one fifty times over. There’s pretty much no argument that I’m not prepared to see the other side of either, so I’ll play devil’s advocate and take up the opposition. Tiptoe and I once drove one of Pimpette’s friends round the bend by refuting everything he said about blink-182 and punk just for the hell of it, graduating to ‘racism is wrong, prove it’ until he was purplish with frustration. He did get arrested for eating his own shit on a bus though. My point, however, is that I will poke and prod at any statement, because although certain terms and words are used as a sort of shorthand that’s not good enough. Say what you mean, mean what you say, believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast. When I was writing my dissertation we had weekly workshops where the eight or so of us would discuss things in a fairly useless manner. I was constantly ragging on the girl who was looking at something to do with race in the UK (I forget the details, I’m very self involved and anyway Japanese porn is actually interesting) along the lines of “what do you mean by white people?” and “if you mean WASPs, you should say WASPs”.

I was annoying my grandma permanently too, of course. There was a bit about those who attended training being asked to share their own stories about encountering discrimination, and there was something about the likelihood of white men having an example being relatively small. I went off on one about how the phrase “white men” was being used to imply “normal”, and didn’t give any indication as to class, sexuality, religion, (dis)abilities etc. I know that it’s a small detail, and you know what? I don’t care. Because the small details fucking matter. The fact that a lot of women couldn’t think of anything without prompting was a little odd, and it makes me sad to see that gender discrimination is so entrenched and accepted. (Even if I’m blatantly a sexist misandrist about half of the time, and a misogynist most of the rest of the time.)

Some of the stories are really touching. They almost make me not want to throttle children all the time, and maybe even hope a little too. I’m an idealist I guess, I believe in pretty ideas and dreams, and I admire passionate people even when I don’t agree with them. Sometimes the stories were sad, like Glenda MacNaughton’s story “Kim’s blushes” and the starkly different responses from White and Black commentators to it. Sometimes though they were laugh out loud funny, like an educator asking a child who’d been teased because of her skin colour if she’d ever been called a bad name, and feeling all proud of herself when she got an affirmation, only to be very confused when the child launched into a complaint about the name her parents had given her. And I know that there’s no easy answer none to blame or forgive, but the most important thing is for educators to be supported. They need greater access to resources and training, no question, but they also need to be proactive. They need to admit what they do not know and what they do not feel comfortable tackling, and then they need to do something about it and improve- and then hopefully encourage others to do the same. The lack of access and confidence that educators face was probably the study’s most important findings, and positive changes were implemented as a result. Which just illustrates one of my favourite admonishments, that you cannot know what the outcome of any research will be, I’m usually talking about scientific research but it definitely holds here. There’s no way to judge what investigations will produce useful results, if we knew what results we’d get there’d be no point doing anything. I hate it when people pay lip service to this idea, and then say “…but I really think that research into sludge shouldn’t be government funded”. Supercolliders FTW, in essence.

After that dose of realism I indulged in the nice thick American Gods which is, absolutely and without question, made entirely of awesome. I’m still flailing a little bit. I seem to have really hit my stride with this burgeoning Gaiman obsession, and now I’m a little scared. He’s not living in my head is he? It’s just a little weird to have an author hit so many of my literary kinks. I adored Neverwhere because it encapsulated so much of what I love about my London, and then in American Gods Gaiman’s clearly so enamoured with small town America and that’s what I’ve been mildly obsessing about for the last couple of years. I want pie. And tequila. I really want to go roadtripping. Fuck it, I might actually have to learn to drive. And Kripke has apparently even said that he was inspired by American Gods in creating Supernatural (and in fact there’s apparently been some speculation about Good Omens too), and since I’m pretty sure that Gaiman is a Buffy fan I’d love to see what he thinks of Supernatural. Certainly that connection was very clear with Hinzelmann and his yearly sacrifices of youths in Lakeside, which was built up really well and the idea that Shadow was considering this explanation seeped in and joyously didn’t make me want to smack him upside the head. I can definitely see how the episode ‘Scarecrow’ took inspiration from this, but it still did it in its own way and I don’t think it was a rip-off or anything. Plus it had Dean screaming “I hope your freaking apple pie is worth it!”, which just fills me with love. And also a desire for pie, dammit.

It had this brilliant darkly comic tone, and a likable lead character in the reticent Shadow, and there was no way I wasn’t going to be sucked in by something which had such a focus on mythology. I love stories and legends and gods, I’m especially such a geek for Egyptian, Norse and Pagan mythologies but really I’ll take anything. This book made me seriously tingly. I was snorting the moment that Wednesday introduced himself because to me that word just means ‘Odin’ (too much looking at the glossy pictures in my 25p set of encyclopaedias), but mostly these introductions were done so subtly and so well that I didn’t want to mock and/or abuse Shadow for not getting what was going on- which is pretty rare for me. Undoubtedly there were literary and mythological references which went skimming right over my head (and I’m still kind of ashamed that I didn’t pick up on the Low Key thing straight away), but I still think that the book was breathtakingly well constructed. The idea of gods’ power and very existence dwindling and growing as belief in them waxed or waned just makes so much sense to me, and did even before reading the Discworld books. Maybe it’s because historians often use such language to describe religious trends? Likewise the suggestion that Shadow caused Laura’s undead status through his strong desire to see her rings true, in a rather maudlin way. I’m not a religious person at all, but theism captivates me definitely. Joss Whedon’s said a similar thing about Christianity, I think that atheists see these kind of beliefs as wonderful shiny toys they want to play with. I think that the ideas that are present in Pratchett and Gaiman’s writing really encapsulate the way that I like to think of religion and the afterlife too- the pluralism of anachronistic and contradictory belief systems which manage to co-exist; the benign force of Death that doesn’t kill but merely collects and people getting what they think they deserve in the afterlife. If anything I come pretty close to actively believing in Dead Like Me‘s reapers, and South Park‘s superfriends. Is that weird?

But that so isn’t even all. The reason I liked Supernatural to begin with was Eric Kripke’s insistence on the fact that America does have its own mythology. (This was also kind of the point of Interstate 60 which Naomi made me watch, which was sort of selectively brilliant although it made me want to smack James Marsden and ask him why he only has two facial expressions. Seriously.) If you buy into the whole ‘boiling pot’ notion, and set aside all the weird power implications of reality for a moment, there’s this great mix of beasties, gods and tricksters. I’m really glad that Gaiman did actually include a lot about Native Americans too, because to start with it seemed as if he wouldn’t, and that would have pissed me off. (Although not as much as when we had to read some politics article sixth form which talked about the white population of the US as ‘indigenous’ and I was the only one who went “bzuh?”. Seriously.)

Maybe the fact that I’m attracted to the idea of all these different theologies (relatively) happily co-existing is the fault of postmodern theories, but I think that it goes deeper than that. Gaiman explicitly characterises most of these religious icons as pre-modern and almost inscrutable. With the American setting he certainly emphasises the fact that these different beliefs aren’t and weren’t demarcated, that they interacted and bled all over each other- I especially liked the reference to the people who might have thought of themselves as Christian but spent far more energy on believing in creatures belonging to an entirely different belief system. Also the idea that this interaction was a new one was countered again and again- sometimes the explanations of how people brought their beliefs to American rang a little ridiculous and seemed to have been played for humour, but I’ll buy the idea that the Americas have been “discovered” far more times than people seem willing to believe. I like anything that challenges the current belief that we live in this extremely globalised age in contrast to previous epochs. Am I arguing against the idea of a markedly different postmodern, hyper-globalised era? Probably not, although to be fair I’m happy to take up either side of that argument when necessary. I just don’t think that an abrupt break’s ever been made, I think that what’s so “different” about the world today is most of the time just a new spin on old ideas. The world was never neat and tidy, people were always flitting around the place threatening boundaries, it’s just that they don’t necessarily fit into the image that people wanted to create of their world and their stories get subsumed.

So I guess that’s why I also found the idea of the new gods, of the Internet and credit cards and so on, so appealing. The idea that these things have been raised to the level of religious icons is interesting, and it brings up all sorts of questions about what constitutes religious belief which are very difficult to answer satisfactorily. I would have liked it if perhaps there was more detail about these gods, and if they were more specifically identified. Nonetheless, it was definitely an interesting idea. And then the nice twist that this wasn’t just a straight up battle of old vs. new was great, and I really wasn’t expecting it. I think that the book still would have worked perfectly well if it had just been about a conflict between the old gods and the new, but the way that it was flipped on its head was delicious. Instead of being their saviour Odin was being a complete and utter bastard, conning them into fighting a battle so that he could utilise the power from their deaths (kind of like Adam in season four of Buffy, but with less demonic cyborgs). It was really clever, but it’s more than that- it (hell the popularity of the book too) emphasises that people’s desires to believe in stories endures. People might have their cruel ‘new gods’ too, but we’ll never stop being what Terry Pratchett called pan narrans, the storytelling chimps. And also reading this (as well as some random J2 AU con fic) made me want to be a hustler. I could do that on my roadtrip with the tequila and the pie and the chauffeur(s), I just need to get good at pool (impossible) and poker (slightly less impossible). C’mon. Unless I can start hustling choh da di somehow… I just need to go somewhere where it’s actually popular and I reckon I could actually be great at that particular con.

I do feel that the characterisation of (ex-)prisoners and the prison setting itself sometimes felt a little forced. I don’t know, maybe it’s just a personal bias because I know that Neil Gaiman’s actually a good middle class English boy (and Jewish! I don’t think I knew that…), but somehow it didn’t quite sit right. Also Laura calling Shadow ‘hon’ all the time started grating on my nerves very quickly. In general I was impressed by the fact that the book did ring true as American, and I think that the difference from Neverwhere and Stardust is noticeable, so it’s not just me going “Haha, I know you’re English!”. There was also another departure, in the sense that American Gods had a lot more sex than his previous books. Now obviously I’m not opposed to sex (as long as it’s well written) even if it’s completely gratuitous, but the sex in American Gods was wonderfully plotty. It was sometimes ridiculous and comic, sometimes tragic, and sometimes steamy but most of all it was entirely pointy. (If largely free from bad puns.) Which is nice, really, because I kind of balk at the idea of writing sex scenes and I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s just the idea of people reading them, rather than an actual inability. I think I write to spec better than under my own volition sometimes, someone challenge me to write porn.(Preferably with characters belonging to one of my favourite fandoms because I’m too lazy to invent characters.)

I caved and bought The Physics of the Buffyverse. It wasn’t inaccessible but actually I was surprised by it and felt that it was actually a little less easy to get to grips with than I’d thought it would be. I really did have to put my thinky science cap on, it wasn’t quite as easy to read as Jennifer Ouellette’s blog (which I do think is great, by the way). Sadly I really don’t think that the book flowed all that well from the beginning, and it would have benefited from having the idea of the structure laid out properly. There was actually a tight inherent logic, but to begin with it seemed that Ouellette was just dancing all over the place from topic to topic in ways that only arbitrarily related to each other. Similarly pointing out that the physics of Buffy’s world was identical to ours in terms of electronic equipment etc was often unnecessary and pointlessly trite.

Mostly I felt that the use of language was very good. It was clear and concise, using appropriate scientific terms but parsing jargon into understandable phrases. Now obviously I don’t have a problem with Buffyisms, I use them all the time (in fact I think a few might have slipped in here), and in stream of conscious-y (eep, does that even count as one?) prose I don’t mind them, but there were a few occasions when Ouellette slipped them in and I just found them jarring. I hope that they aren’t always irritating, because if they are I’m probably royally screwed. Then again I am 22, and not writing about science all that much so maybe I can get away with it. On the other hand it may be that many people who’d pick up this book are Buffy fans who are less interested in science than I am and who, therefore, might appreciate those little references.

So while I think that the first couple of chapters seemed to be Ouellette finding her ground (with a few unnecessary observations perhaps), I think that she really hit her stride after a while and certainly had my interest piqued. All the stuff about the relativism of time, quantum mechanics, alternative realities, multiple universes and string theory was honestly captivating. The material definitely meshed with these topics way more than with discussions of electromagnetism or the laws of thermodynamics. I think that Buffy honestly has a lot to offer when discussing those (far more interesting) areas of physics, not only in terms of providing interesting analogies which is definitely useful in terms of the dissemination of scientific knowledge (Ouellette actually recently discussed the way that television treats science on her blog), but also in showing how those ideas have been taken on and applied outside of the physics community. Angel actually explicitly tackled string theory in ‘Supersymmetry’ for example and Buffy name checked quantum mechanics in ‘Out of Mind, Out of Sight’ with the invisible girl. Ideas of distorted time have been covered from a scientific view point in episodes like ‘Life Serial’ and ‘Happy Anniversary’ as well as a mystical one in ‘I Will Remember You’, for example. Alternative realities and dimensions permeate the Buffyverse too, and I think that Ouellette could probably have written a perfectly satisfying book which focussed on this topic.

I totally became super smart for a coupla days after reading this book, and had this deep understanding of theoretical physics which was great. It wasn’t great for everyone else of course, because every time anyone asked me for advice (or just a simple question) I found a way to bring it back to the theory of relativity or quantum mechanics. Alcohol definitely didn’t lessen this tendency. This knowledge (and my awesome feeling of being at one with the universe) has faded a lot since, which everyone else is probably a lot less upset about. I still understand the implications of Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, and I think that Schrödinger was actually pretty stupid. I also definitely think that the importance of scientific theories in shaping thoughts outside of their realm shouldn’t be overlooked, not just in terms of the zeitgeist and pop culture but also in terms of the way that scientific ideas leaked into the humanities and social science- and gave all those crazy postmodernists ideas. However, while I ultimately did enjoy this book I have to say that the first Science of the Discworld book was way more captivating. That filled me with a desire to go and study physics, The Physics of the Buffyverse mostly just made me want to engage in another great rewatch.
Speaking of the Discworld books, I decided to read The Wee Free Men, cos frankly there should be more Pratchett love. It was relatively standard fare, but entertaining all the same. I think that I just felt compelled to read this, being such a big Pratchett fan and having an obsessive completist streak, rather than being all that drawn to the book in and of itself. Tiffany Aching may have had a stupid name but she was a great character, I just think that I would have appreciated her (and the book) more if I’d read it as a young kid. It didn’t stop it being enjoyable, and I like plenty of children’s books, I just could definitely tell that this was aimed at younger readers in way that I couldn’t with Maurice. I liked the character of Tiffany’s grandmother too, Pratchett always writes great no-nonsense witches. The ideas about the type of witch produced depending on the ground they’re from (and the different ideas about different types of grounds) was interesting and inventive. Certainly it was a nice setting for an adventure, and that idea of magic seeping in worked well. I thought the Queen was well constructed, and I’ve always liked Pratchett’s conception of elves in the Discworld series. This quote from Lords and Ladies might actually be one of my favourite:

Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.
Nobody said elves were nice.

And once again the idea of multiple realities was definitely important, that’s something that’s always been relevant in the Discworld books. It’s certainly something which I find interesting- and I like the way that Tiffany found her way into Fairyland.

I think that the recurrent themes of knowledge and learning were well handled. Intelligent young heroines are generally pretty easy to like when they’re not too annoying, and Tiffany’s affection for (properly spelt) words was endearing. I do like the Nac Mac Feegle too, I find them amusing, I’m just not head over heels for them. They’re kind of gimmicky, and once the few jokes about them have been played out they’re kind of redundant. The storylines about Tiffany becoming a witch and venturing into elf country were far more interesting as far as I’m concerned, although that doesn’t mean that I think that the Feegle were pointless or that they didn’t add anything to those plot lines. Granny Weatherwax’s cameo was fantastic of course, she’s definitely one of my favourite Pratchett characters. Overall I don’t have any major complaints, but I don’t think I’d bother buying the sequels. I wouldn’t mind reading them, but then again I’ve got that whole completist thang going. I imagine they’d be amusing enough, especially as they’d focus more on Tiffany becoming a witch and growing up a bit- and possibly even have more Granny Weatherwax. Maybe I’ll grab them out of a library one day.

Next I read a collection of essays entitled Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Philosophy: Fear and Trembling in Sunnydale. It was certainly interesting and enjoyable, but I think that ultimately it wasn’t all that satisfying. See I love Buffy, and I love Joss Whedon (and not just for Buffy, I’m all about Firefly and SerenityAngelDr Horrible, the comics, Toy Story and so forth), and maybe I’m just a little territorial about people muscling in on my obsessions but… Joss Whedon is not God. Buffy is not the be all and end all. Stating that isn’t blasphemous, at least I’m pretty sure. Buffy was a great show and I’d happily take up residence in Joss’s brain, but Buffy (at least in the earlier seasons) was great because it was something that was so fun and playful, something so campy and yet emotionally engaging, something that was capable of being layered. What it was not was some kind of manifesto, or something consciously imbued with deeper philosophical meaning. Me saying that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t tinged by strains of that, or that the show doesn’t provide good advice or even a good template for how people lead their lives. Just, some perspective please people.

Also the show provided a relatively black and white morality early on, and although it was shaken up far more in later seasons and especially in Angel (and now even more so in After the Fall, oh wow) the complexities weren’t always there. I dislike it when writers and academics project these things backwards. The grey areas emerged gradually and were largely consistent with the show’s ideas (and ultimately its flexibility) but they weren’t always that evident. Some ideas were never fully resolved either, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing, but the ambiguousness of vampires would probably never have been developed if characters like Spike and vampire!Willow hadn’t proved such fan favourites. The show’s mythology and plotlines can be used as useful analogies when discussing philosophy, certainly. Some philosophical ideas are pertinent to a broad discussion of Buffy, like with Oz’s thoughts in ‘Earshot’ (and certainly this is relevant to Firefly too, as Joss Whedon explicitly references Sartre’s theories in the commentary for ‘Objects in Space’). However it can definitely be taken too far, and has been by some of the authors of this collection. No matter how you slice it Buffy was never an exposition or discussion of Platonian, Nietzschean or Kantian ideas.

I think that I definitely preferred What’s At StakeFear and Trembling did benefit from being written later, and therefore being able to take more of the show’s development into consideration. The problem is, I suppose, that the canon is still expanding with the comics- and things are changing in remarkable ways what with Warren being alive, Angel being re-humanised, Gunn being vamped and so on. I do think that future texts on the show take into account the comics because they are official new seasons, sanctioned by the creator, which represent the way that the shows’ characters’ futures might have played out.

Certainly there was definitely some good stuff in this book, I don’t want to gripe too much. I liked the fact that the first section focussed on Faith (in relation to Buffy and Feminism) since she’s one of my favourite characters. Using characters such as Faith or Buffy to illustrate a philosophical point works well, trying to graft a theoretical argument onto a television show does not. Repeatedly I could see something that had some very good points, but that tried to pull together into an argument that didn’t really hold. I really liked most of the section on knowledge because a lot of it focussed on Buffy‘s treatment of science- something which I was definitely feeling especially interested in after reading The Physics of the Buffyverse. James South’s essay on human irrationality was also very interesting, although I can’t help thinking that it would have made perfect sense if he’d deleted all the references to Willow and replaced them with another fictional character. It wasn’t at all specific to Buffy, and I suppose that it doesn’t have to be, but if these arguments aren’t then what’s the point of the book?

A lot of the stuff on ethics bored me a little. There are interesting arguments to be made about the Feminist and/or small-scale version of ethics that Buffy provides, but I really don’t think that the show’s a how-to guide. Milavec and Kaye’s chapter on Aristotle’s love paradox and Stroud’s Kantian analysis of moral judgement in the show had a slightly different bent though, even if the former was a bit too Bangel. The penultimate chapter on religion and politics in the Buffyverse was probably the most interesting for me, and while Pasley’s article on the revolutionary and/or subversive nature of superheroes rang true for me I think that Neal King’s might have been my favourite. It takes a relatively tongue in cheek look at the show and proclaims that Buffy’s a fascist. Now I think that some of the conclusions drawn might be a little farfetched (I really don’t think that Buffy’s anti-Semitic, not with that nose and a Jewish best friend) but it was one of the few articles to really probe the problems with the show. The vampires of Buffy were explicitly caused by the mixing of two ‘species’ (a term commonly interchanged with ‘races’), and the morality of Buffy’s violence is ambiguous at best. Rather than lauding the show and Joss Whedon constantly it’s interesting to see a well constructed argument that problematises the show by looking at it from another angle.

I think that Whedon writes strong female characters exceptionally well, and he’s actually capable of writing more than one of them which Aaron Sorkin is arguably not. I think that Buffy provided wonderful examples of this, not just with Buffy but with Willow and others too. It also gave us one of the first decent portrayals of a lesbian relationship on mainstream television, and that’s awesome too. That doesn’t equal a carte blanche (or maybe it does and that’s the problem, heh) when it comes to the treatment of race in the show. Has anyone ever managed to get this addressed by the writing team? There were shockingly few non-White characters in the show- until season four I can only think of the counsellor who got killed in the only episode he appeared in, Mr Trick who was evil, the vampire preacher who was evil and Kendra. Kendra was a sort of ridiculous stereotype with a generic (and terrible) accent, and while she was a sympathetic character her behaviour (and death) mostly existed to be contrasted with Buffy’s. Later on we got Forrest who was annoying and then an evil zombie, Olivia who was great but swiftly disappeared and then some of the potential slayers including Rhona (played by Indigo who I love) and Robin Wood, not forgetting the rather essentialist First Slayer and Shadow Men. This was something of an improvement but not by much, and where were the Hispanic characters? (There’s an argument to be made that characters like Kennedy and Cordelia were also non-White given the mixed ancestry of the actors portraying them, but since references weren’t made to that as far as I know it’s suspect. And kind of like claiming that Neo isn’t white in The Matrix. Which I totally will do if it suits my argument obviously, but still.) The treatment of indigenous American peoples in episodes like ‘Inca Mummy Girl’ (in which the gang assume that Ampata can translate the seal) or ‘Pangs’ is often uncomfortable to watch because it’s just so cheesy and bad. Combine the racially “other” nature of the demons and vampires that Buffy routinely kills (unless they’re extra special, natch) with a largely homogenous white population and main cast and you’ve got something quite disturbing. A mostly white cast wasn’t unusual for 90s America certainly, but I do think that it’s something that ought to have been thought about more carefully and addressed at some point- beyond Mr Trick’s comment on the whiteness of the town and Rhona’s observation that the black chick always gets it first I mean. At least the comics allow some scope for that, as did the Angel spin-off- although not unproblematically. Firefly certainly seemed a lot better on that front given that it was set in a futuristic world characterised by cultural fusion and two (count ‘em, two!) of the main cast were black. That still didn’t really negate the problematic nature of the Reavers as the Injuns, and the fact that in a world where everyone spoke Mandarin and many people had Asian surnames I don’t think there were any Asian characters, but baby steps I guess.

The last section of the book contained an interesting essay on metaphor by Tracy Little which I really liked despite the fact that it referenced Baudrillard and used the word ‘simulacrum’ (trust me, this is high praise indeed coming from me). I was frustrated by the last one in the collection, and really wish that the book had finished with something else (preferably Neal King’s thought provoking chapter on brownskirts, but really anything would have been preferable). Levine and Schneider started by ripping into various academics for over-emphasising the importance of Buffy, something which I can kinda get behind. They claimed that the success of the show is based in Buffy’s “girl next door” persona, and had the makings of an interesting theory. Instead of pursuing it they wandered off down a Freudian argument about the psychical nature of debasement, love and lust. It was maddening because this line of argument made me completely lose respect for them, and their self-important tone and rudeness about other academics wasn’t doing them any favours either. So in conclusion while I enjoy reading or watching pretty much anything on the topic of my favourite things, especially Buffy (the Paley 08 interview is pretty good if you haven’t seen it yet, FYI), and while this book definitely had some good moments, it could definitely have been a lot better. I feel as if quite a few of those chapters were written by people who thought “ah, twisting my argument to being about Buffy, that sounds like a good idea” rather than people who felt they had anything important to say about the show or its characters. I really wish that people weren’t afraid to say negative things about the show either. It is flawed, and it’s ok to say that- in fact doing so produces honestly interesting and thoughtful arguments that I’d much rather read than a badly constructed argument about a Platonian interpretation of Faith’s behaviour.

A-a-and, I feel that I could have segued from that rant into talking about Barrack Obama’s first book, Dreams from my Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance, somewhat better. Um. Anyway, first off you should know that I’ve turned into a reasonably enthusiastic Obama supporter. He’s going to win, right? I watched season seven of The West Wing, I know how it’s supposed to go. And I do know that nobody’s perfect and that there’s no way that he’s going to be able to actually deliver on everything he promises. But. It’s just so nice to have a presidential candidate (President, please) who it’s worth getting excited about, someone who I can actually believe has ideals and workable plans, who has passion and vision, someone who is passionate about oratory and about meaningful ideas. A real statesman, in other words. I’m not even an American and I’m excited (although fair enough, I have watched far too much West Wing to be objective), and if Obama doesn’t win I am seriously going to beat up every American I know here who was too lazy to vote. People who don’t vote offend me, as a woman and as someone loosely affiliated with South Africans (including my mother and her family), and just as a person. Maybe it doesn’t change anything (at least a lot of the time) but if you want it to change something then you damn well vote and then do a hell of a lot more. Otherwise suck it up and shut up, and stand still while I smack you upside the head. I quite enjoyed this advert on the point too.

Ok, so the book was sometimes unbelievably sentimental and schmaltzy and it is clearly written by someone with aspirations in the public arena and therefore a little guarded and prim (although there’s some relatively frank stuff about booze and drugs), but it ain’t bad. I honestly think that it’s pretty well written, and some slack does have to be cut, as he himself points out in the preface to the 2004 edition- but that doesn’t make it less true, when you consider that he was pretty young when he wrote it. I mean that might sound ironic coming from a 22 year old, but it’s not. I just think that while whatever of someone’s writing ends up in the public sphere (and this is makes me understand the whole paranoia about writing anything online, especially if it can be traced back to your ‘real life’ persona) helps to inform their public persona there has to be some flexibility. People change and learn and grow with time. Or you hope that they do anyway. I definitely think that this book was fun to read too, it clocks in at 457 pages but I just sat there and read it for a couple of days without getting tired of it, and my eyes were once again just gleefully dancing along the page. It’s like a lite-snack. I even got sniffly occasionally, but that’s probably just me- I do that kind of a lot. It’s been suggested to me that getting emotional about fiction and other people’s lives is the sign of a deep underlying pathology and an inability to connect with people in my own life. I actually don’t think that’s true though. Probably.

And anyway slightly weird racial sentimentalism didn’t make me dislike Kerouac so I’m not exactly going to start running off in the opposite direction. I think that Obama was pretty careful to paint everyone in the book as realistic- not perfect. His maternal grandfather might have seen himself as a forward thinking liberal, but doubt can certainly be cast on this image. And Obama doesn’t do so unkindly, it’s just that people tend to portray themselves in their best light and project their ideas back into the past- but that’s not reality. People are flawed, and that’s ok. The important thing is to know that, and to strive to make things better. Maybe I’m just being sappy because I’m half way around the world but oh I do love people thinking that family is important. (Aw crap Roses just came on, I might have to go email my grandmother about ceiling wax and fluff in a minute.) And I do feel like a bad feminist and a little sexist, but really that image of a gaggle of his female relatives in Kenya fraffling about together cooking and feeding everyone just… well first of all it makes me feel like a solemn three year old again eating avocado sandwiches in the park, but also I do just love women. It might just be social conditioning, but it ain’t all bad. Women, in the right environment, just like each other so easily and so much. And you don’t even need a common language or all that many common experiences. You just need a cooking pot, and that’s kind of nice.

I liked that he admitted in the intro that although this book is of an autobiographical bent (without exactly being an autobiography) that it is to an extent fictionalised. He talks about the way that he created some characters out of composites of real people, and how he sometimes fudged the true chronology of events. This book isn’t presented as some great truth (with a voice of god-esque narration) this is some interpretations of one person’s interpretation of life, or at least some aspects of it. Sometimes real life is a lot like fiction, but when you chose to begin a memoir with the phonecall from a ‘stranger’ informing you of your father’s death while you deal with the burning breakfast you’re choosing to write about Reality in a highly stylised way. The distinction between reality and fiction is as blurred as any, and I think that this writing style was consciously chosen. It allows Obama to tackle important issues, but also to tell a story. And it’s honest in a way that an attempt at writing the bare facts can’t be. It makes for a more interesting read too, and I think allows readers to connect with him more.

I think it’s quite nice to read about the progression of the idea of the book within the book. What I mean by that is that you can clearly see the strands which made him want to write about race issues in the US. He could have written a perfectly reasonable and engaging book without reference to his family or his own life (or with very few), but he didn’t. This isn’t just a political or theoretical book, it’s a memoir. It’s about one man looking at problems that faced him and those he knew, and trying to theorise about it, and then trying to work out how to make things better. And if that’s not inspiring then, seriously, point me at something that is. [Sidebar: just using your pain and writing an angry diatribe? So not the same. I am still pissed as hell at the Annika character in the 'Coke Dick & First Kick' ep of Californication for apparently writing a mean review of Hank's book because she was having man troubles. It's this kind of shitty characterisation of women, nay feminists, nay again actually, women that pisses me the fuck off, and I'm pretty sure that the writer of that episode was a woman. I am not making a happy face.]

Obama’s life history; the mere fact that he’s biracial; the fact that he grew up in a multi-ethnic and somewhat non-typical (of the US at that time) setting just by being in Hawaii; that he spent some of his childhood on a whole different continent (in Indonesia); the fact that he lived and worked in inner-city Chicago… it’s all just, well exactly what the world wants I guess. Polling data has apparently shown that if the world population got to vote in the US presidential election Obama would win with an overwhelming majority, and apparently some American voters are taking this into account. (Although can you really trust polling data? Short answer: no. And anyway I’m getting this from The Korea Herald which might not be the most reputable source in the world ever, who knows.). I think that’s cos we (and yes I do feel equipped to speak for the entire non-American population of the world, thanks for asking) are so desperate for America to have a leader who is eager to tackle the problems that America faces effectively (all of them, not just the ones that garner votes) but also to actually acknowledges the rest of the world- to understand that it exists and understands that the American president (the person, not the movie since I still haven’t seen it) has to interact with that. As far as I understand it it’s generally only the people from the states around the edges who actually get that, which I guess makes someone who grew up off of the mainland a prime candidate (hey, a senator from Rhode Island would have been fine with me too). Actually spending a meaningful amount of time outside the US is golden too, especially in a developing country because one hopes (and from the book it seems) that this would nurture an awareness of global issues. Facts and figures are one thing, but the experience of living somewhere, of having ties with a place and people, I think really does bring a place (and its struggles) alive far more. Obama also tied his experiences in Indonesia explicitly to poverty and problems in other places- inner-city Chicago and Kenya for examples- and that contains the promise of action and change- making those connections, and saying this isn’t how it should be, and attempting to bring about change.

And yeah, identity matters. It’s nice to have a goddamn presidential candidate care about identity, and about political ideals (and theory!). I might be geeking out but fuckit, he actually seems to care about academic pursuits and scientific research. Is it weird that that makes me develop a bit of a brain crush on him? Should I even ask, that’s weird, right? And in terms of real life, yeah identity fucking matters. I’m just, I’m gobsmacked, how the hell is Barrack Obama only the third black senator (in modern times)? I don’t think that the UK is that much better, but I’m just looking at the numbers and according to the 2006 census ‘black and African American’ people make up more than 13% of the population, whereas the 2001 census puts the black population of Britain at under 2%. It’s difficult to work an adequate analogy for the parliamentary houses of the two countries, but I’m pretty sure that there’re more than three black members in both UK houses of parliament at this moment, not just since 1967. The second wave feminism of the 1960s and 70s noted that there was sexual equality in law but not in reality, and where’s the second wave Civil Rights movement in the face of this ridiculous lack of actual racial equality? I mean anyone who thinks that there’s actual sexual equality in real terms in the world can shut up and suck my dick, but the obscene racism that pervades American mainstream society and culture is disturbing. And I’m not just talking about the crazies [and ok, apparently that guy wasn't quite as insane as I first thought, but seriously not the poster boy for sanity].

And yeah, Barack Obama cannot claim to speak for all black or all “Black” people in America or the world. But, um, who the hell can? Maybe he can actually speak for a large portion of the somewhat disenfranchised, and I guess that was kind of the point of that 30 minute ad (I don’t know, I went to sleep about 30 seconds in- what? I was fricking tired!), and isn’t that the model for the new world order anyway? That maybe everyone who’s affected by the fact that this world is run kind of shittily, and the people who benefit from it but think that it’s a farce, band together as tightly or loosely as they feel and create change. It’s not necessarily, or rather not uniquely, about race: the point is that a large population of the US (and the world) is frustrated and economically struggling and/or freaked and angry.

And yeah, he has a different heritage to many black Americans, but so? Do you think he wore a badge (“button”, oh fuck off) proclaiming that fact? People treat you based on the impressions they make of you, and that impression isn’t necessarily formed by responses to actual questions. And anyway, this is why the term ‘African American’ kind of pisses me off (ooh yes, white British girl does feel entitled to rant about it), although I actually feel kind of bad for Jesse Jackson. Again maybe this is just something that doesn’t quite translate well to Bringlish, but I feel like if people started knocking around the term ‘African Brit’ they’d get some incredulous looks and then hopefully get smacked on the back of their head. I mean if people want to identify as ‘African American’ then that’s fair enough I guess, I’m not either of those things (unless you count that loose affiliation with the South Africans which I a) don’t and b) apparently keep forgetting about) and don’t really have a leg to stand on- it’s just that I really don’t get what’s wrong with the term ‘black American’, or just ‘black’ if it comes to that. You can even capitalise, I don’t care. Most people labelled as ‘African American’ have far less of a tangible connection to Africa than Barrack Obama, and if you think that people are going to forget a legacy of kidnapping, abuse and slavery if the ‘African’ modifier is lost then… Well then I don’t really know what to say. I mean I guess you could be right seeing as how people are pretty fucking stupid, but I find it hard to believe that they’re quite that dumb. (Naw see what having a decent presidential candidate has done? I’m, like, all hopeful ad shit.)

And, I’m not particularly comfortable with the “n” word (despite the fact that Elvis Costello and John Lennon managed to get away with it) which Obama used with some frequency. However, I actually finally got around to listening to Nas’ new, very untitled, album and I think that I might actually be changing my mind. It might have been the “no matter what colo[u]r you are” bit, I don’t know it’s just such an intelligent and well thought out album. Go and listen to it now, and not just cos Fried Chicken actually made me laugh out loud. Thing is I’m all about allowing for the fact that words change their meaning and that language isn’t static, it’s just that I get really fucking hypocritical about ‘gay’ and ‘nigger’ (and conflicted about ‘cunt’). And the former got kind of appropriated in a mean way, whereas the latter’s arguably been/being reclaimed. And, oh, I don’t know. This totally ended up in a different place than it started, and I feel like I’ve written an awful lot of stuff that had nothing whatsoever to do with the book. But, hey, the album also has a song on it called Black President which samples that line from I Wonder If Heaven Got A Ghetto (which actually kind of made me ecstatically happy because it made me feel like I wasn’t the only person who started humming it every time someone said the words “black president”) which is almost cringeworthily cheesy, but is redeemed by the fact that I’m a sappy Sorkin fan, and anyway it’s somehow still pretty good:

I think Obama provides hope, and challenges minds
Of all races and colors to erase the hate
And try to love one another; so many political snakes
We in need of a break, I’m thinkin I can trust this brother
… but will he keep it way real?
Every innocent nigger in jail, gets out on appeal
When he wins, will he really care still?

So I guess just consider this my wholehearted endoresement instead of anything approaching a book review. Better late than never, right?

Hey, did you, like, notice that, like, every second book for a while there was Buffy-centric? That’s right, this an awful segue to more of the same. In this case, Fray. Which I enjoyed, obviously, but I can’t help feeling that it was a little expensive. Graphic novels and comics (which apparently I’m suddenly way into, I’ve got Joss’s stretch at Astonishing X-Men all ready to go when I finish this entry of doom) are generally a little pricey, and I understand why. Thing is I’m kind of a cheapskate and don’t really want to cough up the dough, cos I read them super quickly and I’m not that likely to want to re-read them. Or so I think now. It probably also helps that they’re pretty easy to access without buying (at least the ones that I’m after), and that reading them on the screen doesn’t kill my eyes the way that reading novels probably would. (Although to be fair, the amount of fic I read I’m surprised that my retinas haven’t completely burnt away. I think very little of digging into a 119,000 word fic now apparently. This is disturbing, yes/yes?) I’m really liking Buffy‘s season eight, as well as both of the After the Fall titles (which comprise a sort of sixth season for Angel), but to be honest if I couldn’t easily read them online/download them I’m not sure that I’d bother with them. They’re just so costly, and I’d have hassles with getting hold of them here anyway I reckon. I was totally itching to get at the new Angel and Spike issues (the latter also being the last of the spin-off) for a while, but finally got my fix today and am now in a fabulous mood. I know, I’m way too easily pleased.

So Fray‘s enjoyable, definitely. It’s not the most amazing or original thing in the world though, as Joss himself pointed out in the intro, and I’d probably have enjoyed it more if I’d read it when it first came out rather than after hearing so much praise heaped onto it. I’ve got to learn to jump onto pop culture as it happens properly. I liked the character Fray- her being a naughty little thief was fun and kind of explored the lighter side of characters like Faith who have no real regard for the rules. The idea that she’s not quite a “proper” slayer because her twin brother got some of her power is quite interesting, although I’m not sure what the gendered implications are.

The futuristic world was captivating too, and the comic medium really brought it to life brilliantly. It’s almost dystopic though, and hardly in the same spirit as the triumphant tone of the last episode of Buffy (which has continued in the comics, even if it’s been tempered). Interestingly Fray was written pre-’Chosen’, and contains references to a much earlier Slayer who got rid of all the magic. This may or may not be a (mangled) reference to Buffy’s actions, I kind of like the idea that it isn’t and that a future Slayer got rid of all the magic and that’s what caused the world to be all fucked up. Anyway it’s always possible that a future story set in the Frayverse would have Fray saving everyone, and probably using her trusty scythe. However I somehow don’t see it happening. I feel that Joss kind of moved away from stories about Big Damn Heroes like Buffy. Buffy ended on the triumphant band of buggered, and on a close up of the hero’s blazing smile- and while the season eight comics are more fraught with problems than that moment (well obviously, there needs to be some, like, plot) it’s still definitely about a ragged bunch of hero(in)es who clearly win against the evil government or whoever they’re facing. They have to win reasonably unambiguously, even if they can’t quite eradicate evil entirely from the world. That’s Buffy’s story, and that’s why SMG and ultimately Joss had problems with season six (as you can see from that fabby Paley 08 interview). Buffy can be put through the wringer, but she does have to pull herself together and be the big hero. And while I actually quite liked the emotional turmoil of season six (and the Buffy/Spike interaction), I agree that there can’t be too much wallowing, Buffy does have to find her inner strength and heroism.

Fray is definitely a different kind of story, more like that of Angel or Firefly. It’s about a few loners (or even just one), just trying to get by. Not having that core knowledge that they’re doing the right thing, but scrabbling for it and struggling, and maybe getting dragged into doing good about as often as they actively try to. Buffy’s story is compelling and epic and writ large. These other stories aren’t any less interesting though, and maybe they’re actually more mature and compelling when it gets down to it. I think that the Firefly mindset of Joss’s can definitely be seen in Fray, not just in terms of this kind of angle and the futuristic setting- even the language of Fray is often quite similar to Firefly‘s.

The supporting characters were pretty decent, I could see some appeal in Loo but I’m not quite sure why everyone was going goo goo over her. At least her death led to an interesting twist which I really liked. Personally I can understand better why people were obsessing over George the fishy demon from Brian Lynch’s Spike comics. Oh, I’m loving Brian Lynch so hard right now, you don’t even know. Reading Fray has helped me understand the crossover in Buffy season eight a leetle more, although I still don’t really know what the hell is going on with Dark Willow. I do hope that it’s wrapped up satisfactorily. Basically, I think that Joss done good. He seems to be genuinely so happy to have finally got a chance to create an uber-cool female comic character. That’s all fine and dandy, but again I don’t think that that makes him king of the world.

I’ve definitely gotten into comics more recently, and have been racing through the Whedon “canon”. As I said I’m loving Brian Lynch quite a lot- for both of the Spike titles (Asylum and Shadow Puppets) and now After the Fall, I think he’s done great work- and created some awesome new characters- although I do think that he’s maybe over-emphasised the fact that Spike’ll do anything for a pretty face. After the Fall has definitely taken some interesting twists, its tone is predictably darker and randomer than Buffy season eight. As much as I grew to appreciate (and perhaps even love) the cliffhanger ending of ‘Not Fade Away’ I’m happy to have more Angel, it really does tie up a lot of loose threads and it’s clear that there’s so much to explore in this world (or hell dimension in this case). The comic format plus the general craziness of Angel means that everyone (and I mean everyone- dead Wes, the dragon, Gwen, Cordy, vamped Gunn, Fred sometimes…etc) can pop up again, and it doesn’t seem all that unbelievable either. There’s a wealth of interesting new characters dotted around too, plus that psychic fish demon. Which is just… neat. It definitely raises further interesting questions about what this means in terms of Angel’s representations of vampires, humans, demons, morality, gender, race and so on, and I’m eager to see where it heads.

As for the other comics, I enjoyed Tales of the Slayers and Tales of the Vampires, although to be honest some of the stories were a bit meh-worthy and I think that I would be a bit annoyed if I’d spent actual money on it. I think my favourite tales were Whedon’s ’Stacy’ and Espenson’s ‘Presumption’ (I could totally guess the author from the Austen-ish setting, it really reminded me of the Firefly episode ‘Shindig’) and ‘Spot the Vampire’ because they were honestly well written and had fun twists. I did like the character of Edna Fairweather, and the nice little reference to Giles. I liked the connection of the two ‘Broken Bottle of Djinn’ stories, they weren’t particularly deep but it was done nicely- and it really emphasised how well the different styles suited the different tales (a lot, by the way). The ‘Sonenblume’ story might have been a little trite, but it was nicely done and had a good message. Goddard’s ‘Antique’ story gave a bit more of a backstory to the interaction between Xander and Dracula in Buffy season eight, although I still think it’s a bit over the top and silly. In general I think that there were just too many stories all emphasising the moral ambiguities of vampires, one or two would have been fine but this was just overwhelming. It’s already problematic enough within the confines of Buffy, and this just served to problematise it further. Are we supposed to empathise with them or with Buffy? We can’t be pulled in two directions endlessly, it’s kind of messy. Considering that the ‘Prologue’ made me roll my eyes at an even more detailed emphasis of how the First Slayer and vampires were created by the naughty mixing it’s quite nice to have these sympathetic vampire characters (and to have their symmetry with the ‘good’ slayers emphasised), but still it’s all rather tricky.

It was definitely nice to see Fray again in ‘Tales’, and to see where the idea of the scythe started off, but I still wonder why Joss decided to shove it in at the end of Buffy’s season seven. It also still seems way deus ex machin-y, and I’d quite like to see a comic which dealt with who the hell these female guardians were and what the hell they were doing hiding out with the scythe. I can understand what season seven was trying to do, and I’ll acknowledge that they didn’t necessarily have the requisite time/space to cover everything. But, hey, I’m totally on board with the idea that comics can tie up loose ends neatly now.

Interestingly Joss has said that he wouldn’t mind throwing over comic canon if he got a chance to make a Buffy movie (or whatevs) with all those lovely people again. (This is from that Paley DVD again.) I don’t see that ever happening, which is probably a good thing- and I think that maybe he was saying it because it was what he was supposed to say rather than because he thought there was any likelihood of it happening. I’m actually more invested in seeing a Serenity sequel anyway, but maybe that’s because both of the Firefly verse comics were fun enough, but I want to see something set post-Serenity (although of course information about Shepherd Book’s backstory will be great too). I want to see pregnant Zoe (which is totally canon, yes?) and awkward MalnInara and sane-ish River. Of course it is nice to see the classic version of the crew too, especially since that includes live versions of Wash and Book.

And, oh, I so want to read the Sandman graphic novels now. That’s not at all related, and should probably have gone up there with the stuff about American Gods if anything, but I just thought I’d throw it out there. I really think that I’d feel fleeced if I bought them all though, I wonder if I can find an English library hiding somewhere? Or…maybe I’ll just wait til I’m back in the UK. Hmm.

Anyway the next book I read was Brave New World. I really don’t know why I ever make claims about anything. I said that I’d had my fill of books written in the first person, and suddenly I discovered that I seriously love some. Then I bitched and moaned about the majority of sci-fi, and of course now I’m salivating over good SF. And don’t even get me started on what happens when I say I’m not going to drink (much).

Brave New World is really very good! I know that this doesn’t come as a shock to anyone, but I’m just going to throw it out there. It’s a pretty short book, but it actually took me a while to read it. I was consciously trying to savour it cos it was just so nummy. Plus I’ve started doing the crosswords in The Korea Herald to try and feel like an intelligent person again. Sadly it takes me ages to complete them.

It isn’t what I was expecting at all. This is because I maintain some really quite odd preconceptions about books. It’s not that I actually judge them by their covers, in fact Brave New World, had a pretty awesome cover, it’s just that I seem to store up these weird assumptions gleaned from insane places apparently. For example that idea that I didn’t like DWJ. In Brave New World‘s case I had somehow decided that it was a completely different book. I thought it was of more of a straight up sci-fi persuasion, like a Dune style thang involving people wandering off to live on another planet. And I figured that there’d be, oh I don’t know, lasers or lightsabers or something along those lines. Instead it’s set mostly in a futuristic London. Which is, you know, awesome. And it’s just so insidious andwonderful, looking at the terrible potential for governments to control citizens- in this case via decanting, eroticism and hypnopaedia. I think that Huxley really sells it, partly just because of the confident command of scientific knowledge and the clever use of language, but also because it’s such a shocking world but it’s spoken about so matter-of-factly. I really liked the fact that the book launches straight into this world without prior explanation- the device of having students shown around might not be unique but I think it worked very, very well. Some really great techniques were used, I absolutely adored the overlapping conversations that ought to have been confusing but really weren’t; in fact they were very easy to picture.

I loved the idea that words like ‘mother’ and ‘born’ became unbearably smutty. It reminds me of being eleven and giggling in science lessons. Ah, sweet memories. It’s kind of ironic that critics found Huxley’s stark descriptions of erotic play almost obscene. The idea that not even Helmholtz would be able to take Shakespeare seriously when there was ‘smut’ or crazy ideas about love and fidelity was great. I (wo)manfully do not laugh at ‘lovemaking’ in Austen novels. Much. I’m not that much of a Shakespeare buff but I could appreciate and understand what Huxley was doing. I’ve not actually read The Tempest in full (gasp!) although I found it in my loft once, along with absolutely everything in the known universe. It’s probably not there anymore, maybe hidden in the piano or something. My mother is a total insaniac. But since it’s my father’s favourite Shakespeare play I’ve dutifully watched the marionette adaptation a couple of times, plus (and way better) when I was in Jo’burg I got invited to see this absolutely amazing thing called Forbidden Planet, loosely based on the film of the same name. It was indescribable. There was a robotic Ariel zipping around on rollerblades, and quite a lot of Elvis songs. I cannot possibly do it justice, but it was fabulous.

I was reminded a little of Dune, although the idea of hypnopaedia isn’t quite the same I guess it’s just that focus on control of the mind. Also I thought a little of V for Vendetta, just in terms of the control of culture and literature. I guess that kind of idea is ultimately terrifying for authors. I definitely liked the idea that Mustapha Mond had access to those kind of productions, and had a good knowledge of Shakespeare etc. That idea of the dictators standing outside of the social order they insist on is powerful. I liked this book better than 1984, I think it’s more powerful and less dated and, actually, has a scarier image of a dystopic society. I think that the ending of 1984 might have been better though, it’s not that I disliked Brave New World’s ending, it’s just that it was easy to see it coming. I rarely like book’s endings that much though, although it’s hard for anything to fail as much as the ending of Deathly Hallows (even if I have a soft spot for Albus Severus’ name…aww). I really loved the seriousness of Huxley’s letter to Orwell that it was included in my edition too, it was all “your book is very nice, but I think I’ve come up with a more sensible theory”. Dude had a point though. And, goshdarnit, I loved the emphasis on Ford, and to a lesser extent on Freud, and the fact that crucifixes were chopped and turned into ‘T’s. Ford’s mass-production techniques are sometimes cited as the starting point for our new epoch, it was definitely a canny choice.

You know, Huxley’s a damn good name. All names should have ‘h’s and ‘x’s in I think. I’m totally going to go and name a character Huxley now. The names in Brave New World were well done also, by the by. The characters too I think, they were somewhat sympathetic but managed to balance that line and be kind of foul as well. The Savage, John, might have a little overblown but I’m very glad that he wasn’t actually a Pueblo Indian because that would have definitely been taking the whole dichotomy way too far and into ridiculousness. I’m totally taking the line that John’s birth was one of Mustapha’s naughty little experiments. It would also explain why Linda was so confused by it. And I quite liked the fact that John’s moniker was capitalised, calling him the ‘Savage’ as if it was just his role in this society not particularly pejoratively (like Bill Ferguson’s explanation of ‘Foreigner’ in Japan). Also any mention of (the) Zuni makes me feel like I’m hearing some special anthropologists’s shout out. Cee and I might have squealed a bit at Transamerica for that reason. I also liked the idea that Jesus existed merely as part of John’s pantheon, even if Huxley was taking a bit of a religious angle it wasn’t a specifically Judeo-Christian one- he was merely encouraging spirituality, and I can appreciate that.

And, ah, I do rather like the word ‘soma’, even though it appears to get everywhere and kind of reminds me of reading Bourdieu and scrunching up my nose in confusion. I’m ok with it now, I think. But, hey, since I’m on the topic: I don’t think that Huxley was at all advocating an abandonment of the social. He was arguing against totalitarianism and for individuality, certainly, but it was a brand of individuality tempered by embedded social interaction. Maybe he would have got on with Charles Taylor et al. (I seriously have very little idea as to why that thought just popped into my head, but ok).

For all the apparent uniformity of this future world there was still the capacity for mistakes, as shown by Bernard’s physique, and constant worries about deconditioning. Maybe that’s a little heartening? And then there was also the ever present problem of the alpha pluses, who might attempt to fight their constraints. In fact that reporter who hid in the bushes watching John for three days was surprisingly resourceful all things considered, and perhaps was an alpha. The fact that there were still Savage reserves and random islands (which, Mustapha was right, would totally be the best place to go hang out…well unless you happen to be Rincewind) also hinted that the control was not as total as it seemed. Maybe that’s relevant too, just consider how pervasive we consider things like Internet use- but then look at actual rates of Internet access, for example.

Thing is, now, I really want to read Brave New World: Revisited, and The Island. I think I’ve got The Doors of Perception/Heaven and Hell, back on my shelf of books to read back in London that is. Dammit. And I really want to read We. And some HG Wells. And…argh. Actually all things considered what I probably need to start with is Utopia. Why are there so many things that I want to read and watch and do? Le sigh. I might be a bit of an idealist, but I enjoy a good book about a dystopic future and I don’t think I actually believe in any type of utopia (yeah, I’m gonna stick with Proudhon), but dammit if that French quote at the beginning of Brave New World basically just saying that didn’t take far too long for me to translate properly. I really need to learn French properly. Which might be easier if I was in a Francophone country. And, preferably, not trying to do a billion other things at the same time.

Slither

In miss thropist, screenshots, tv kicks on September 21, 2008 at 8:00 am

I was pretty excited when I finally got around to watching Slither. It’s ridiculously cheesy horror movie from ‘06 (fun fact though: apparently it was only released in Korea very recently, so I’m actually kind of with the times, even if I didn’t know it), which I think would usually be more Lyca’s cup of tea than mine but James Gunn had obviously realised that if you want to get me to watch something there’s a few ways that rarely fail- and one of them is a Buffy alum. Nathan Fillion not only fits that criteria but he’s also obviously a graduate of the Firefly/Serenity-verse (and now of Dr Horrible’s too, but that hadn’t been made yet way back in aught-six), is generally just incredibly adorable and I totally have a voicecrush on the man.

It’s a pretty standard plot- an alien (in this case, literally) entity has infected someone and this infection is spreading and taking everyone over, whilst a small band have withstood the attack and now have to save the world against seemingly impossible odds! The SFX were actually pretty cool (and unbelievably gross, but in an awesome way), I especially liked the ridiculous squid-Grant and the guy getting sliced in two. When did I turn into a fourteen year old boy? Oh, right. Well I’ll pretend to be ananthropologista for a moment… This film did have one of the most redundantly explicit infestation-as-rape scenes that I’ve ever seen (although I suppose that’s not saying much since I don’t watch films), featuring the infected Grant visiting Brenda who’s desperate to be his bit on the side. Grant unbuttons his shirt to reveal two unmistakably phallic protrusions- then pierces her skin while she struggles against him. The scene is clearly shot as a rape, and it was pretty disturbing- especially when intercut with Grant’s wife Starla innocently dancing and enjoying herself with Bill (ahhh Nathan). I can’t quite decide whether or not I liked it though- since this is a relatively tongue in cheek horror-comedy I assume that this was a “knowing” scene, nodding to and slightly mocking this tendency of horror flicks. All well and good, but it didn’t exactly make pleasant viewing- not to mention Brenda’s throes as the camera finally pulled away seemed more orgasmic than deathly which just… is actually something which could be brilliantly disturbing but since it wasn’t developed at all and this seems like completely the wrong setting it was just mostly annoying. Unless they were in fact a completely different kind of shudder, in which case just chalk it up to me babbling bullshit as per.

Brenda comically ended up as brood mare for the aliens- Grant fattened her up with a variety of local pets etc to the point where she looked like Veruca Salt, or possibly Balthazar from Buffy (that suit was also clearly re-used in the last episode of The Inside). She then exploded pouring a load of gross wriggling beings, all apparently controlled by a hive mentality. The wrigglers infect people via the mouth, and do so very quickly and effectively most of the time- although the lead characters must have very bad breath or something because they somehow withstand the attack. Plot devices don’t annoy me too much though when they result in wonderful almost grope-y scenes between Nathan Fillion and Elizabeth Banks (who has a very nice arse, and was somehow incredibly hot in this film despite not performing her eye candy duty in Scrubs particularly well). The weird little aliens also brought about a completely ridiculous scene involving the teenaged Kylie choking on one of these suspiciously phallic larvae. These rape scenes deserve applause I suppose, if only for getting past the censors who would have frowned on any actual sex scenes. Funny old world.

The possessed people tended to become inexplicably stupider, less aggressive and shockingly incompetent when faced with Kylie, Starla or Bill. Consistency is clearly for the weak! They also quickly took t oresembling zombies, I’m always a little miffed when a movie sneakily turns into a zombie flick- but nowadays that just reminds me of Dean getting all excited about them in ‘Time is on my Side’ (Supernatural), so I can cope. They served the story well enough, but whenever they turned into complete idiots around the lead characters I had to roll my eyes. A lot.

This film did have some of the lamest exposition ever. Case in point: instead of clunkily discussing the grenade that Bill later decides is the key to saving everyone when grabbing weapons to go Grant-hunting and sagely deciding to leave it behind for no reason whatsoever, why not include the confiscation of the grenade at the beginning of the film, or randomly include the (pretty funny) anecdote about people trying to fish with it? When a devout Supernatural fan is chiding your exposition you know you’re in trouble, ‘Time is on my Side’ actually has a scene in which Dean waves a bottle of chloroform at Doc Benton and tells him slowly and carefully that the knife he just stabbed him with was dipped in the bottle. It’s almost brilliantly absurd in its majestic move of beating the audience over the head with the point, but anything delivered by a maniacally grinning Jensen Ackles somehow works.

Similarly I could forgive Slither many of its worst faux-pas because Bill was simply so endearing. In part I suppose it’s because it’s always nice to hear Nathan get to swear angrily, but this was coupled with a truly likable character:

Wally: I’m surprised you’re able to lift a mug, you’ve been carrying that torch for so long.
Bill: Oh, that reminds me. There’s something I wanted to tell you.
Wally: What’s that?
Billy: Fuck you, fatass.

I have retained an unabashed love of Nathan Fillion, even though he’s no longer exactly the Captain Tightpants of yore. I’m not sure that he was ever exactly conventionally gorgeous (although I’m not knocking the nekkid scene fromFirefly), so I’m not too fussed about his recent change to going around being puffy eyed and scruffy- especially as he’s almost working it.

One thing I did love about the movie was the women. With the exception of Brenda they were pretty kickass. Kylie was great and managed to be pretty funny under pressure, which is always a bonus. She managed to save Bill from an evil deer, and even let him take the credit (although not all that enthusiastically). I especially loved Starla trying to lure Grant by being all sweet to him, just so she could get close enough to whip out her mirror from her underwear and try to stab him. I’m glad that Starla and Bill got their happy ending, and I liked the call back to the whole running away to Hollywood idea.

In short, a pretty entertaining movie- especially if you actually like Nathan Fillion or these kind of horror films.

Wall to wall empty cans

In miss thropist, screenshots on September 7, 2008 at 7:27 pm

WALL-E was enjoyable enough, but it isn’t brilliant. It does its thing well- the futuristic world is wonderful realised with exquisite detail and the film manages to work well with very little dialogue (but if I want to watch a silent movie I’d probably watch one, or perhaps ‘Hush’ the “silent movie” episode of Buffy).

Maybe it’s because I’m not the world’s biggest fan of sci-fi that I wasn’t enamoured with the film, WALL-E basically cinematically realises the drab rusty colours that I associate with the draining nature of a lot of sci-fi (like when I was reading Dune).

The character WALL-E was endearing and sweet; his curiosity was charming as was his hoarding instinct. I understand that this is supposed be a relatively fluffy family film, but I don’t think that that ought to absolve it of the duty to create a believable plot. Why did (this) WALL-E survive when the others didn’t? Is it because he scavenges and thus has spare parts and enough knowledge to keep himself running longer? If so, why not make this explicit? Why are certain robots (WALL-E and later EVE) able to exercise free choice whereas most others cannot? What is it that allows these robots to be sentient and act in a relatively human way? If WALL-E was affected by what humans left behind on Earth to that extent I want to know how andwhy. It probably doesn’t help that I don’t really buy the idea of sentient robots anyway.
The whole romance angle was kind of weak in my opinion. I understand that it’s supposed to be fantastical, but somehow familial fish and ogres in love seem easier to swallow than robots staring into each other’s visors. I know that the film was just trying to be sweet and whimsical, but it just seemed stupid to me. I also think I might have liked the romance between WALL-E and EVE a lot more if the robots didn’t have these oddly gendered personalities- why is EVE so feminine? EVE’s destructo-gal role was pretty fun though. I did really like the fact that nobody was able to pronounce anyone else’s ”name” correctly, and there were some nice little touches when WALL-E was trying to entertain EVE such as the Rubik’s cube and the light bulb. Whilst I liked the nostalgic film and music that WALL-E favoured I felt that they were odd choices. All the humans left Earth around 2100, so I doubt that WALL-E would find a lot of VCRs and jazz. I felt that the film was consciously trying to evoke the audience’s idea of the nostalgic past, which creates the desired effect but doesn’t hold true to the story. I think a more interesting version of this story wouldn’t feel so human or accessible, but probably wouldn’t be box office gold. I’d like it a lot more though.

WALL-E’s inbuilt music system was pretty cool. I would have no compunction about becoming a cyborg if I’d get a (large) mp3 player fitted inside my head, it would save all the hassle of fiddling with headphones. The people/cyborgs/robots/whatevers of the future are going to have sucha cool time, as long as anyone lives that long- which actually this film made me doubt.

When WALL-E hands EVE his treasure, a plant he found growing amidst the rubbish, she seizes it because her directive is to find evidence of life on Earth. WALL-E is obviously concerned by her randomly shutting down and lovingly guards her through freak weather conditions until the ship comes to collect her. That was all pretty sweet, but I think that he could have saved himself a lot of hassle by not hanging out in the rain and snow. Also WALL-E’s obsession with EVE seems a little bit disturbing if you think about it. Their relationship begins with him skulking about following her, and watching her asleep. Once he gets his plant inside her (that sentence started out a lot cruder!) she completely shuts down and turns into nothing more than a receptacle of gestation. Add to this EVE’s egg-like shape and her treatment as a hospital patient once she gets to Earth it really seems as if WALL-E accidentally knocked her up without no ring to produce future little MCs WALL-Es pizza plants (did I mention that I love Sarah Jones?). Their ‘relationship’ continues for an unspecified amount of time during which he ogles her while she’s comatose and gropes her hand which is apparently something very special for robots. It just feels like something of a violation, and I’m glad that his hand got trapped and hurt when he did it, ha.

The robots on the ship appeared to be far more obedient than WALL-E, which is a little weird because they’ve spent far more time around humans than he has. I loved the OCD robot who was frantically trying to clean up the foreign contaminants WALL-E was leaving everywhere. I would really think that a futuristic ship would have a better security system than the one it had, it took them ages to track down WALL-E and EVE after they’d been designated ‘rogue’. I don’t really understand why ‘ill’ robots were kept around, why not just destroy them? Also it had secretly been decided that returning to Earth would not be possible, so why were the probes still sent to look for life on Earth? Surely that could have been faked perfectly well?

I liked the idea of the fat, useless future-people who are so consumerist and lazy that they’re incapable of paying attention to what’s around them. I definitely agreed with the idea that these people wouldn’t be aware of WALL-E or find his presence weird, because they’re all basically drones anyway. However I think the decision to make all these-future people American and mostly white was bizarre. In a live action movie there can be casting issues, but in an animated movie it’s quite easy to portray the statistical probability that in the future most people will be caramel coloured (at least The Matrix got that right). Also since everyone seemed physically incapable of making babies perhaps a cursory explanation for their existence could have been made. No explanation of this new human society was given- it appeared to be just as consumerist and overrun by the huge Buy n Large corporation but I don’t understand how this corporation was making money off of them. Nobody appeared to have jobs or do anything, perhaps the corporation just enjoyed controlling people for the sake of it? Perhaps everyone who came onboard initially was incredibly wealthy, and their descendants are able to live off of this somehow (would there still be banks, interest, investment?), in which case I want to know what happened to the poor people- did they remain on Earth to end up crushed by the WALL-Es? I don’t understand how the ship had enough fuel to power a 700 year flight, if it was manufacturing it’s own fuel or something then I want a brief mention at least.

Although the plant that WALL-E found seemed to be incredibly resilient, it lasted a pretty long time without water and only a little soil as well as getting tossed about a lot, I don’t see that the presence of one little weed means that life on Earth is automatically sustainable again. There was an awful lot of work which needed doing, not least somehow removing all the waste products littered across the Earth. If nobody could do something about it 700 years ago I don’t understand what there brave new plan was. I really wouldn’t give humanity good odds on survival on a planet without any evidence of sustainable life and freak weather conditions including devastating sand storms, especially since they didn’t have a decent understanding of farming and thought they’d be able to grow fully formed pizzas. If the planet had been devoid of plant life for 700 years I would assume that the atmosphere had changed and there was no longer enough oxygen for humans to survive. If humans have adapted to subsist on nitrogen or if they succeeded in terraforming the planet incredibly quickly that needs to be made obvious, rather than leaving plot holes large enough for WALL-E to easily dump all the trash into. Quite frankly I’d rather watch Firefly.

There were far too many little inconsistencies all over the place which weren’t a big deal but grated on my nerves. When the humans who WALL-E had succeeded in waking up splashed water at one of the robots they electrocuted it, yet the water apparently had no effect on their hoverchairs. I don’t understand how WALL-E was able to avoid falling in space when he wasn’t being aided by EVE or his fire extinguisher. I don’t understand where the Captain and some of the other humans suddenly developed an ability to walk! Etc, etc, etc…

One thing that I did quite like was the Captain’s longing to go “home” to Earth, a desire which he managed to wake in the other people too. I’m listening to Sloop John B right now which feels especially appropriate! They wanted to a return to a home that they’d never known, and I think that the importance of this national, or in this case potentially international, aspect of identity is pertinent. Although humanity on this ship didn’t constitute a dispersed group I’d still characterise them as a diaspora I think, as they clearly exhibited most of the characteristics.

Overall I didn’t think that it was a bad film, it just wasn’t anything overly amazing and I can’t quite understand why it got such enthusiastic reviews. I suppose I’m also just not really in the mood for loveable well-meaning characters who bumble around trying to do the right thing at the moment, the magician in the short animation ‘Presto’ also got on my nerves for being stupid. I think I actually laughed more at the PIXAR title with the overly-energetic lamp squishing the ‘I’ (which I’ve seen plenty of times before) than I did at it. WALL-E‘s end credits were exceptionally buff I have to say, but it’s not a good sign that they might have been my favourite part of the film.

Return of the Carnivale

In miss thropist, tv kicks on September 7, 2008 at 8:24 am

Mostly I have been watching season two of Carnivale.

Although the series did finish with something that could be a conclusion (at least it wasn’t a massive cliffhanger), there are still many unanswered questions. After perusing information gleaned from the pitch document, interviews and so on I feel a bit more satisfied, and have an inkling as to where the next four seasons would have gone. Stupid HBO for cancelling it after only two seasons. Despite this irritation I still have plenty to say about it, as evidenced by my scrawl-filled notebook:

Carnivale in general was just really well (and lushly) shot, it looked like a movie thanks to a huge budget- sadly that budget is probably what led to the show’s cancellation. It was worth it though I think, and I love the attention to detail- having major characters fraffling around in the background of scenes, such as Sofie digging her hole, as well as minor characters portrayed in great details, like the sword swallower. I’m by no means an expert on 1930s America, but I think that the sets, costumes, speech (‘jibber-jabber’ is a great word!) and so on were so beautifully detailed that it seemed perfectly realistic. The constant smoking made me crave a cigarette a little though. I really wish I knew a little more about carnivals- for example, surely a guess your weight challenge would be really easy if you know your weight, unless they’re fixed? If they are fixed, wouldn’t people who do know their weight protest about this? The opening credits were absolutely gorgeous too, dipping in and out of tarot cards. I was actually kind of sad that I was watching them for the last time when I got to the series finale!

I’ve become somewhat enamoured with small town America, I think Supernatural has a lot to answer for, so I was glad that Carnivale allowed me to further this little obsession. The troupe’s bitching (and Sofie’s especially virulent brand) about how boring Nebraska is made me laugh because the Americanos at work are constantly bringing up the point that there’s nothing in Nebraska because they are seriously puzzled as to why Hans spent a lot of time there.

There’s a reasonably high ick factor too, Justin dreaming of pulling off all his skin rated fairly highly for me. The scene involving people biting live snakes was also a tad gross, and I was a little remorseful about my choice to eat tomato sauce-soaked pasta at the time. There’s an episode of Buffy called ‘What’s My Line, Part 1′ which I honestly thought I was incapable of watching without a plate of spaghetti bolognese in my hand. It’s pretty much the only thing my father can cook which probably explains the frequency with which the two events coincided, but it wasn’t a happy coincidence- since that episode includes an exploding bug-man who kind of resembles bolognese.

Season two started with another of Samson’s speeches. This one claims that the Depression, the environmental ravages which created the Dust Bowl, rampant ill health and various other problems facing America in the 1930s were caused by the presence of evil incarnate in the country. I assume that later events are supposed to fall under this scope too- especially the ‘false Sun exploding over Trinity’ (the atomic bomb). It’s an interesting take (although by no means an uncommon one, since religious folk often seem keen to propagate these kind of notions), but this neatly sets up the idea of Justin as possibly being an extra-strength brand of evil. I don’t feel that the concept of Justin as the Usher, as something distinct from being the Avatar of Darkness, was explored enough but probably it would have been in later seasons.

Quickly the audience is taken back into the Carnivale action, where Jonesy ran into the fire (please imagine Martin Sheen as President Bartlett pausing meaningfully here) to save Sofie even after she arranged matters so that he’d find Libby and her in flagrante delicto purely to hurt him. You will note that she doesn’t even thank him for saving her life. I took this as early evidence of her evilness. Alright, I suppose she was a little distracted be hearing her mother’s death throes in her head but since Apollonia was the one who set them on fire in the first place, which Sofie can really only assume to have been an attempt at filicide, I wouldn’t think that she’d be all that upset about it.

Of course once it dawns on Sofie that she’s all alone she suddenly feels just terrible about hurting people! Despite the fact that it didn’t really happen long enough ago for her change of heart to seem at all convincing, and since she didn’t get a chance in that time to talk to Libby or Jonesyshe didn’t have an opportunity to realise how she’d hurt (either of) them.

I really don’t like Sofie most of the time. I wonder if I’ve ever taken such a great dislike to a relatively sympathetic fictional character? Probably. I hate Carrie in Sex and the City a lot of the time (and don’t even get me started on Aidan), and similarly could not stand Susan in Desperate Housewives. I really didn’t like Riley or Dawn much in Buffy either. Perhaps my venom towards Bernadette in the film version of The Jane Austen Book Club would also count? I do wonder if I would like Sofie more under different circumstances, because I do believe that different viewing conditions can lead to quite different opinions. I bet that I wouldn’t like A Hard Day’s Night anywhere near as much if I ever watched it when I wasn’t hungover, and I actually warm to Carrie if I’m in a despondent mood (but not a grumpy one). I think that I’d probably be more sympathetic towards Sofie if I’d been bereaved or betrayed recently, and sometimes I can understand where she’s coming from, it doesn’t stop me from getting annoyed by her most of the time…

At least Sofie’s bitchiness has some positive consequences, to start with the fact that I got to watch Libby flouncing around being all heartbroken and cute. I was excited from the very first suggestion of a bond forming between Libby and Jonesy in the wake of Sofie’s actions. It’s just so deliciously fucked up! Not only are they united by the fact that they were both obsessed with Sofie, Jonesy was having an illicit affair with Libby’s mother not so long ago. I couldn’t help laughing slightly at Jonesy’s sweet promise to keep Libby’s secret, telling her that what happened between her and Sofie will be just between the two of them, because it clearly isn’t a situation between just the two of them- Sofie is implicitly involved in their burgeoning relationship, and the spectre of Rita Sue is never far either. Jonesy certainly has a hard time getting Sofie out of his head, the scene in which he was staring at the baseball reminiscing about young Sofie whilst refraining from helping her even though she was clearly struggling was great, it managed to convey his hatred and bitterness very simply.

Minnie the Moocher is a great dancing song in and of itself, but it was also an excellent choice as the soundtrack to the shy yet overtly-sexual interaction between Libby and, a once again, sweaty and oily Jonesy. Rita Sue’s face when she walked in and saw Libby attempting to do her sexy dance at Jonesy was just so wonderfully pained, and some great interaction between the two women followed. I feel so bad for Rita Sue even though she is being so selfish. I somehow get the sense that she’s not just aching for herself though, she seems to be crying for Libby (for being brought up in this world) just as much as for herself.

Libby clearly feels very unloved and unlovable, which is hardly surprising considering that her life mostly consists of being sold by her father for gambling money. When she sees the “perfect” father who’s insistent that his children get to enjoy themselves as thoroughly as possible ‘riding and riding’ (said in a way that really reminded me of Juliette Lewis in Natural Born Killers by the way) she can’t help feeling despondent. However, I think that the way that she pouts and whines about it was obviously calculated, she’s clearly angling for attention from Jonesy. I love the fact that this ideal parent is later seen emerging from Rita Sue’s boudoir, I think that was a great little touch.

The moment when Libby and Jonesy finally start dancing together at the party was lovely. Jonesy isn’t much of a dancer due to his leg injury but he doesn’t even think of refusing to dance after he’s defended her from Burleigh. Their dancing is rubbish, but they seem very sweet together. However it’s clear from her face that Rita Sue’s heart is completely breaking as she watches them together. When Jonesy walks into the dance tent Libby uses it as another opportunity to flirt with him, there’s something about her flirtations having to occur whilst she’s dancing for a tent full of men that’s simply heartbreaking. Jonesy looks enraptured anyway, and they manage to sneak off and finally consummate their relationship. I think the sex scene was beautifully shot, and the imposing form of the carnival (forebodingly represented by the Ferris wheel) remains in frame. They were clearly pretty nervous, fumbling with their clothes, and Libby made my heart ache,

“Put it back there… I’ve never tried. I don’t want you going where the Johnnies go. I want it to be special.”

Libby and Jonesy end up drunkenly getting married soon after, which was actually just fanfuckingtastic. As was the fact that when Jonesy wanted to rush back because he didn’t want to keep the boys waiting, Libby echoed this same sentiment without thinking. She woke up gasping the next morning when she saw the ring, as if she’d just woken up from a nightmare. Rita Sue’s response wasn’t all that different actually- she seemed completely gobsmacked.

I could kind of understand why Jonesy was asking Libby to cover herself up, since she is pretty much half-nekkid most of the time, and it seemed as if he was trying to explain to her that her body (and by extension herself) shouldn’t be considered worthless. However, he really can just fuck off with his moralising tone, as she promptly told him to- and she definitely hit below the belt by comparing him unfavourably to Felix. She’s wonderfully catty a lot of the time. This kind of marital discord theme continues with Libby getting really annoyed with Jonesy’s snoring. This incredibly domestic scene is interrupted by them getting kidnapped by the angry relatives of the victims of the accident with the Ferris wheel. The contrast between them lying in bed and Jonesy being beaten up by men who’ve been driven mad by grief and forcing Libby to watch was terrifying enough, but it gets much, much worse as they proceed to cover him, and even fill his mouth, with hot tar. I was doing my starey face of despair and pouting at the screen, hoping that the show wouldn’t kill Jonesy off but also thinking that it would be a great twist if they did.

When the scene opened on Libby in distress next to Jonesy’s charred body I was certain that he was dead, but it turned out that he was somehow still alive in utter agony. It made Felix’s comment that he was off getting sunburned seem horribly ironic, especially as they were in fact stuck in the middle of nowhere under a blazing sun. Libby had no way to help him, she tried to pull the tar away from his skin but merely succeeded in almost pulling some of his skin off. So she just tearily promised anything she could offer- to stop dancing, to do anything he wants- if he just please won’t die. Then the camera pans out and reveals that he’s actually in even more pain, since he’s also bound. Libby’s relief at the sight of a car is tangible, as is her fear that it won’t stop. When she realises that it’s Hawkins in the car she seems overjoyed and hugs him tightly, revealing her tar/blood stained once pretty dress. Hawkins is able to save Jonesy(and thankfully Libby obeys him and gets out of range so it doesn’t end tragically as it very well could have), and it turns out that getting tarred and feathered and almost dying is not only a great way to fix a marriage but also a quick way to get Jonesy looking all hot and oily (or rather tarry) again.

Hawkins swears them to secrecy about these events so Jonesy insists that he and Libby don’t tell everyone that they were attacked by crazy people (which could conceivably be twisted into a non-fatal situation) but that they got drunk and arrested, because that sounds much better. Jonesy then decides to accompany Hawkins on his mission for convoluted presumably plot-driven reasons, and leaves poor Libby desolate and alone, and desperate to go along with them.

I really like the cootch family storyline, not only does it allow some light relief compared to much of the show because they’re not particularly involved in the overarching good vs. evil storyline so they’re easier to identify with (I can’t imagine Justin, Management, Hawkins and Scudder playing silly thinking games on the road for example). They’re also deeply interesting, engaging characters in their own right too. Felix really does swear very well when angry, it’s most entertaining (I especially like him telling people to watch their mouths and then calling them a piece of shit). I really loved the little scene in which Rita Sue was ‘beering’ herself up, and her embarrassment about doing that of all things in front of her husband (whilst she has no problem with stripping in front of a room full of strangers) was adorable. I also loved that she was outraged at the idea of stripping (or even ‘just’ dancing) for kids, and her indignant “You been drinking wood alcohol again?” to Felix had me giggling. Felix’s response was gold too: “Don’t demean what I do!”, rather than even a plea to not demean what she does (it kind of reminded me of Dean’s equally ridiculous “Don’t objectify me!” response to Bela’s suggestion of angry sex in Supernatural). Felix went on to explain that he doesn’t do anything so crass as to peddle flesh, he sells dreams, but Rita Sue never seems to buy a word of what Felix says. It’s a good thing too since he talks a lot of nonsense, he’s not really the greatest liar though especially when he brackets statements with ‘sometimes’s, that always points to lies. (Unless it’s Sometimes You Have To Work on Christmas (Sometimes)). Samson’s admonishment that “You could put a church dress and a bonnet on Rita Sue and it ain’t gonna be clean. Matter of fact it might even be dirtier!” made me laugh, it’s definitely true.

Felix’s idea of the ‘lunch box’ was seriously grubby, although props for the terrible punning in the name. He’s very funny, especially with his faux-business speak; arguing that they need to manifest their diversity (beyond stripping and prostitution). No matter how likeable he seems he is in fact at this point selling his wife (and, to a lesser extent, his daughter) for gambling money which just isn’t cool. I did love the fact that when Libby offers to do ‘the lunch counter’ (how she’s so innocent as to not understand the name is something of a mystery) he takes one look at her sweet, open face (with the impossibly wide eyes) and promptly decides that it was a very bad idea. I honestly don’t think that she made the offer like that as a ploy to get him to drop the suggestion, I think that she’s just so lonely at this point (and missing Sofie so much) that she doesn’t really care.

Felix’s excitement about the Lewis match was infectious, he’s so likeable that it’s easy to overlook his terrible behaviour and blatant racism (the term ‘eight ball’ had me confused for a little while). It’s hard not to like someone who tells Osgood that he’s really got the corner on stupid though. It was kind of nice to know the outcome of the match, and know that Osgood and Hawkins would be given a chance to laugh at Felix later, and the show seemed to be making the point (a little too loudly) that making racist comments will lead to losing all your money. It made me think that perhaps this was all a fake out and Felix was trying to find a way to convince everyone to bet that Lewis would lose so he could take their money. So when he made his little speech to Rita Sue at the end of the episode claiming that he had bet on Lewis (and that he didn’t care what colour a boxer was) I almost believed him and was getting very excited. However it just didn’t add up, after all he had clearly been upset by the outcome of the fight, and was muttering about the fact that he shouldn’t have bet on a Hebe. Burleigh and the other rousties thinking that Felix is a bit of a prat was vindicating to an extent after that, but since they’re hardly any better it isn’t all that satisfying!

I loved the way that Rita Sue used sex as a weapon entirely self-consciously to get Felix to admit to her how much he owes in gambling debts. However, she’s clearly an idiot. I don’t understand why she’d give him all her money (yes she should have her head examined), since it clearly isn’t something that would go well. I can forgive it though, because it leads to the wonderful image of a man fucking a whore (we’ll leave aside the fact that she’s his wife for the moment), whilst stuffing her freely given money into his pocket. Felix continues to lie about the outcome to Rita Sue (claiming that he used all her money to bet on Lewis winning the fight), but she’s clearly not buying it and is just so bitingly sarcastic towards him.

I’m not entirely sure why Rita Sue had a load of alligator trivia at her disposal, but it was just so randomly wonderful and further proof of her extreme awesomeness. In desperation she pushes her goading of Felix to extremes to get him to admit that he lost all their money and starts giving away all their belongings, and then completely incongruously throws even more alligator facts into her tirade. Felix really doesn’t deserve anyone this great, he’s as amusing as hell but he’s not a very good husband, father or friend. I could understand his rage at Jonesy (Jonesy’s affair with Rita Sue did damage their family life considerably) but attacking him for dancing with Libby simply wasn’t acceptable- especially since he valiantly pronounces that his little girl ain’t for sale. There’s a certain level of hypocrisy which even I’m uncomfortable with. It’s pretty obvious that Jonesy’s a complete sap and has feelings for Libby as well, he clearly isn’t trying to negotiate an hour or two with her. Also attacking a man with a leg brace hardly seems fair, although I can’t imagine Felix being overly concerned with that point.

Libby and Rita Sue’s relationship continued to be fraught, and they had a brilliant layered discussion when Rita Sue was trying to co-ordinate their mirror dance. It’s true that Libby to an extent is a mirror of Rita Sue, she’s been brought up to emulate her mother and even bleached her hair. Her taste in men is clearly reminiscent of her mother’s too since they’re both attracted to Jonesy. She is adamant that she isn’t merely Rita Sue’s doppelganger though, and in fact defiantly breaks out of the routine in order to show off when Jonesy drops into the tent. I think the costume choice was purposefully something which didn’t particularly suit Rita Sue as well, which added to her embarrassment (also only wearing one stocking and one glove looks stupid no matter how gorgeous you are). Rita Sue seemed incredibly pissed off, to the point that she even pointed out Jonesy’s presence to Felix which could result in violence quite easily.

I think that Felix may have achieved a new low in attempting to pay for his dental surgery with an offer of ogling Rita Sue. Rita Sue was disgusted with him for that, but when Bud turns up to collect the money that Felix owes him she’s suddenly quite happy to use her wiles. She was wonderfully calm and collected- telling Felix to just shut up and giving Bud permission to slap him around if he felt like it, but to talk to her about serious things instead. With a tilt of her head and a flutter of her eyelashes she attempts to reason with him by pointing out that there’s a Depression on (just in case it had somehow escaped his attention). Bud’s rejection followed by Libby’s marriage to Jonesy probably didn’t do a lot for Rita Sue’s self-esteem. I do really think that although she is clearly feeling sad for herself, since she loved Jonesy and it obviously hurts to see her daughter with him, she is also sad for Libby since she wanted better for her than one of stripping and prostituting herself and then marrying a roustie and settling in the carnival for life. I seriously loved every minute of the loaded interaction between mother and daughter, and it was a great contrast to Felix’s reaction to the marriage which mostly seemed to be regret at the fact that the show would be losing a dancer.

I’m glad that Rita Sue retained the ability to intimidate Jonesy even after all of this, and that she remains tightly controlled- making the situation about important issues such as money and the concept of family, rather than giving into her anguish. Libby is totally awesome too (she’s more like her mother than she realises or would like to admit), and has the power to shut Felix up completely. Libby managed to make it abundantly clear that she wasn’t going to let anyone walk all over her or decide what she will do (as if she’s livestock of some kind), be they a parent or her husband. She decrees that she will carry on dancing (with caveats) but not prostitution until they have enough money to pay off Felix’s debts and ‘if any of y’all don’t like it you can take a flying fuck at the man in the moon!’. The response to this outburst is predictably stunned silence, but then Felix attempts to smooth things over by pointing out that there’s pie. You’d really think that Supernatural would have been able to put me off pie by filling it with negative associations, but dammit I always want pie.

I took a strong dislike to Burleigh, but I loved that Rita Sue refused to show him that he intimidated her. The fact that he was trying to negotiate sex with her whilst she was sewing of all things just made it seem even more out of place and ridiculous. Burleigh is pretty easy to hate, he’s clearly a lummox- misunderstanding ‘rhetorical’ as ‘retardical’, for example. The scene where Rita Sue ended up shakily aiming a gun at Felix whom she thought was Burleigh revealed how much he had actually intimidated her however. I was immediately convinced that Burleigh would soon start harassing Libby, and that it would be a very bad idea for him to do so. I was very glad when Jonesy jumped to Libby’s defence at the party and punched Burleigh out since he totally had it coming. Once Jonesy and Libby get married Burleigh is incredibly rude about Jonesy being attracted to her, which seems to smack of hypocrisy somewhat. Burleigh continues to try and be insulting by growling that he doesn’t fuck whores, but Libby responds sharply that that’s only because they refuse to service him.

Even though Libby promised Jonesy and Hawkins that she’d keep Hawkins’ healing powers a secret she caves and tells her mother the truth about what happened in the wake of Rita Sue’s taunts about her missing husband, her jibes are pretty low- she calls him a cripple and says he wasn’t that good in bed anyway. It doesn’t matter though because Rita Sue doesn’t believe her, and for some reason goes blabbing to Lilah. Lilah is really insincere as soon as she’s got the information about Hawkins which could help her get Lodz, merely blandly assuring Rita Sue that she was a good mother. Rita Sue is also pretty cruel to Libby later, saying that Jonesy probably found a nice, decent girl who doesn’t strip for a living. This really smarts because it’s hardly as if Libby chose this lifestyle.

Rita Sue gets incredibly stressed at Samson for dragging them to New Canaan since her show can hardly do much in a religious town and she’s desperate to make money so that they can pay off Felix’s gambling debts. They have been forced to play in a religious town beforehand, where they ended up doing a Revival act, but that wasn’t quite the same- the carnival didn’t set its sights on an obviously devout settlement in that case. I love the interaction between Rita Sue and Samson- Rita Sue generally displays unwavering loyalty to Samson unlike many of the others, but she feels unable to follow him in this case.

Sofie also eventually gets some interesting character development too, and I think that Clea DuVall is a great actress (FYI she played the invisible girl Marcie in the Buffy episode ‘Out of Mind, Out of Sight’, and the fact that she managed to give a memorable appearance in such a role speaks volumes I should think). I wasn’t surprised that Hawkins was the one who found her when she went a-wandering, as it echoed her looking after him in the beginning of the series. Most of her interaction with Hawkins made me like her a little more too actually, she just tended to act a lot nicer around him. I really liked the idea of Sofie becoming a roustie, and her determination to actually do something made me like her, at least briefly. I just like her attitude- that digging a pointless hole beats curling up and dying, and wanting to work so hard that there’s nothing left of her but the work. I was getting all ready to laugh my arse off at Sofie killing someone with a dropped screwdriver, sadly however that moment never came. I think that the importance of the Ferris wheel and the (im)possibility of it breaking down was set up well though.

The Rousties are real bastards to Sofie. Whilst I can definitely see where they’re coming from (come on, I hate the bitch) I do think that they ought to be a little nicer to her- after all her mother did just die. Even the one guy who bet that she would last out and finish digging the hole turned against her. Although Sofie is adamant that she won’t go back to reading people’s fortunes tarot cards keep appearing everywhere. Nobody seems too concerned as to where they keep appearing from, it isn’t really the most mysterious thing that happens but I would expect a little puzzlement. When Sofie eventually agrees to read Hawkins’ fortune for him Apollonia appears to her again (which was very freaky, especially with her strangely deep voice) and tells her that Sofie was always the one who read the cards. I’d kind of suspected that Sofie did have psychic abilities of her own, rather than just a telepathic link with her mute mother, but I’m not sure why she wasn’t aware of this. Apollonia’s haunting of Sofie is very eerie, perhaps because you get the sense of Sofie’s desperation- she truly cannot escape her mother. The moment when she appeared in Sofie’s bed was honestly terrifying.

The fact that Management is revealed to be tangible (there’s an arm, I saw it!) early in season two was interesting, especially in terms of furthering the plot, but quickly made him seem less creepy. The fact that his voice also seemed less spooky and more wheedling (I wasn’t aware that he was voiced by a woman though) also added to this. However, the reason for this clicked into place in later episodes, it wasn’t an oversight but a shift towards the revelation that Management was actually a dying man and an Avatar of light (and therefore not to be feared). His face was even eventually shown, which would have been rubbish if he was supposed to be maintaining his mysterious identity, but by that point he seemed more like a sympathetic character.

I was very glad to see that Management and Samson were still on good terms (and I love Samson referring to Management as ‘(the) Man’). Management had pulled a fake out by pretending to be all chummy with Lodz (whose name I still think ought to be pronounced ‘Wudj’) and humiliated Samson by kicking him out of his trailer. However this was all just a ploy to get Hawkins to kill Lodz. Whilst that isn’t necessarily cause for happiness, it’s nice to know (or at least assume) that Samson was in on it the whole time, and that they maintained a good relationship. The idea of them being on the outs with each other was a little jarring since Samson does seem to make a good right hand man for Management, especially as he’s incredibly knowledgeable about everything (although possibly that’s a role that he only fulfils entirely when he’s monolouging in season premieres). That’s a neat little twist that wouldn’t have ever been realised had the show been cancelled after the first season, and although by the end of the second season there are plenty of hints as to where the show would have gone it’s still incredibly frustrating to know that there would have been all sorts of twists and turns that are probably never going to be realised. I still want to know what Inara’s not-suicide kit in Firefly was too!

The death of Lodz does show that Hawkins has already acclimatised to the Carnie way of life and various customs. For example when he buries Lodz he leaves something with the body, having learnt this from Dora Mae’s beautiful funeral when everyone present left something precious of theirs with her body. It’s also clear that he understands what Samson means when he says that he’ll be the one to ‘pick a number’ (for Carnie justice!) for Lodz’ murder. Samson is completely rubbish at covering up the Lodz situation, it’s comical but I have to assume that it comes from his anger because otherwise it seems very out of character. When instructing everyone to search for the missing Sofie he doesn’t cover his tracks and tell people, at least cursorily, to keep an eye out for Lodz too. This raises Lilah’s ire and makes her suspicious of him. A lot of the time I don’t really like Lilah, but here I can find some sympathy for her (even though to be honest she’s probably better off without Lodz). Plus I like her pretty dresses.

I loved all the Ruthie/Hawkins interaction, and not just because I really love Ruthie. It was a wonderful commentary on talking at cross-purposes. Ruthie thought that they were having a nice, sweet moment thanking him for ‘looking after her’, whereas the audience is aware that Hawkins is actually fretting about murdering Lodz for Ruthie’s life. I was hoping that some sinning would commence after this nattering, but sadly I was disappointed. Nick Stahl also managed to look good all sweaty and oily in that scene too, I’m wondering if this is a fact that applies to all men? It probably does when you consider that Nick Stahl isn’t particularly attractive with his squished monkey face. He does get some awesome ripped dungarees though, I really want some, as well as some suspenders and Rita Sue’s tailor. I’m glad that Ruthie at least had some comfort from Samson (who really is such a sweetie even if he tries to hide it) about her situation with Hawkins. I did think that Ruthie was being a bit of an idiot for starting doing her show again after almost dying from a snakebite, and I clearly had a point since she was almost strangled by one of her snakes shortly afterwards.

Strangely enough Hawkins started to get pretty skittish when Ruthie was talking to him about death. He’s incredibly transparent most of the time, and simply an awful liar. He hardly seems like the type of person you’d want the fate of the world to depend on. I mean he’s clearly an idiot half of the time, apparently not possessing common sense, a knowledge of any basic fables or fairy tales or even a working memory. I imagine that any pudgy toddler could tell him that if a creepy old guy accompanied by a disturbing little girl demands that you get out of your truck for whatever reason, you shouldn’t do so. Nonetheless I do love Hawkins, and he just manages to be this strong moral force, like in this instance when he makes the old man promise not to sell the young ‘retarded’ girl (who one assumes is his granddaughter) for sex anymore, and you really believe in the old man’s remorse here. Coming into contact with Hawkins somehow has this effect on people. It reminded me of the time when Hawkins forced the freaky mechanic to fix the Oakie’s truck and stop being such a bastard to them (without letting them sell their family heirloom to him for practically nothing), even though it was Samson’s money that he was using to do so and it would take him ages to be able to pay him back for this. Some things are just important. It’s a good parallel, especially because that also occurred in the wake of Hawkins being an idiot- not realising that people who smile too much at you and pepper their speech with endearments or ‘son’s are clearly out to fuck you over.

Presumably due to Hawkins killing Lodz to save Ruthie, she starts being possessed by him. It’s something that seemed unlikely to end in puppies and rainbows even from the beginning. Her new (occassional) psychic abilities and attempts to interact with Sofie made me think that perhaps she was going to become the new Apollonia to Sofie, but I think that the powers were just a result of the transformation and/or manifestations of Lodz’s powers. Even when not possessed by Lodz she has some powers, for example being able to see dead people, but when this happens she sees them as live people so she gets very confused by this power. She starts to think that she’s going mad- well I’d imagine that dying will do that to a person. I loved that Samson’s response to her despair is trying to organise a show for the carnival with it. It turns out that the reason she’s freaking out is that she thinks that she had a vision of Scudder (whereas she really did see him and he is alive), and she really can’t cope with the idea that ghosts have cars.

When Hawkins goes off in search of ‘the crone’ Krohn (did I mention that I love homonyms?) it was fairly evident that it wasn’t going to go well. I mean Ben Hawkins in close proximity to a crazy old woman who likes to attack dolls? He exhibited some pretty stunning idiocy rather quickly- worrying about setting off a cacophony when he’d just been screaming for attention and was in fact in the middle of shouting his credentials at the top of his voice (i.e. the fact that he’s neither the law nor a poacher). He then gets so freaked out that he runs off into the unfamiliar woods in the dark, and manages to get kidnapped by some proper hicks, who come complete with monkeys and a whipping fetish. They were even drinking moonshine out of jam jars, they were truly awesome. In a surprise twist the hicks end up saving Hawkins (by unburying him) once they find Scudder’s trinket which he had on him, I love their response to the discovery too- they’re very, very freaked out. They had reason to be I suppose, since Emma Krohn the crone sews Lee’s mouth up as punishment (which really has to be one of the best crazy old lady punishments ever).

It was an interesting twist that she turned out to be Hawkins’ grandmother, which in turn made his hick tormenters his assorted relatives. She also turned out to be much blinder than even Lodz what with being completely eyeless. She seemed relatively benign at first, Hawkins was getting on reasonably well with her and was sweetly leading her down the stairs to the shock of everyone else (understandable since the last person who came down those stairs was Lee who came down at a gallop in terror because his lips had been sewn together). She quickly displays an unpleasant temperament however, although really one ought to expect that when making the mistake of interrupting the ramblings of crazy old folk. It becomes clear that she’s actually very dangerous and insane when she attempts to stab Hawkins after he accidentally drops his father’s ‘death’ mask. She can’t actually do it, it isn’t obvious whether she’s stopped by an outside force or if she just can’t bring herself to do it- although my bet would be on the former. She ends up giving him the knife, but really Hawkins is far too trusting- despite his misgivings he closes his eyes when she asks him to (and nearly gets stabbed for his pains).

It also transpires that she was the one who killed her husband and her other children (no wonder she didn’t want to talk about it) and clawed her eyes out. I told you she was creepy. Hawkins being disparaging about his hick relatives seemed a bit hypocritical, alright he doesn’t seem to have a penchant for kidnapping or monkeys particularly but he’s a total hick (and plenty of the Carnivale crew refer to him as such). They tell Hawkins that he’s always welcome to come back since there’s always room for kin at the table, and strangely this doesn’t appear to be a joke. What they think could induce him to voluntarily spend time with this lot escapes me, and apparently Hawkins. I think he’s probably especially pissed off since they ruined his one good t-shirt, and he has to go around wearing a stabbed, bloody top for a while. By the next episode it got replaced, but I don’t think that that would be particularly unlikely to actually happen so I’m not considering it an error. Thankfully they didn’t hurt his dungarees.

Hawkins’ next stop on his hunt for Scudder is the disturbing man who made Scudder’s death mask. He managed to endear himself to me slightly by insisting that there’s always time for hot cider and good company. His creepiness shone through though, especially due to his obsession with children (especially dead ones) and dolls, as well as the fact that he sounded worryingly like the paedophile from Family Guy. I knew that Scudder was blatantly still alive, and I’m not sure why Krohn told Hawkins that he was dead. I suppose she might have just done it to be cruel, and anyway she was insane. It also seems plausible that she really did think he was dead, which would explain why Scudder wanted the mask created in the first place (especially since she’d appreciate something she could feel rather than need to see). I did wonder if perhaps Scudder was holed up at another carnival since that would provide quite a good way of hiding oneself simply because it allows people to move around the country swiftly and constantly, without them having to cough up the money for doing so.

The way that the mask maker told Ben that he has a very interesting face seemed to smack of a creepy obsessiveness. His description was fairly accurate however, Nick Stahl does have an interesting face and sunken eyes. Despite this guy’s weirdness I really think that Hawkins ought to attempt to display some social skills, rather than just bellowing at him to do what he wants right now. The fact that Hawkins seems oblivious to the fact that he’s been drugged is further evidence of his idiocy. The mask maker’s own mask stuck in a weird expression was priceless, and I loved grumpy drugged Hawkins headbutting him, as well as the fact that he had more concern for Hawkins’ ‘interesting’ face than his own safety. I do feel that pouring plaster all over someone’s face might stop them breathing or possibly blind them though.

This is possibly (but probably not) explained by the suggestion that it was all a dream. Hawkins vainly tries to find proof of the ordeal but he cannot, and the mild mannered man is reasonably convincing in his bewilderment. Many weird events (especially if they occur at the beginning of an episode) often turn out to be Hawkins’ (or possibly Justin’s) dreams, but they’re also often prophetic. I was really hoping that it had actually happened, and that there was a secret workshop hidden somewhere, which seemed reasonably likely when it was revealed that Justin’s broadcast had influence here. The surrealism and uncertainty of the whole thing were brilliant. When Justin received a box at the end of this episode I was pretty sure I knew what it would contain. Not a dick in a box, but a hick- or at least a mask of his face. In fact it was even better, Hawkins’ mask somehow had a link with Hawkins’ eyes allowing Justin to see through them which definitely suggests that the mask making escapades did really happen. Justin ends up breaking the mask, which links him with Hawkins really since he broke Scudder’s mask pretty recently too. Hawkins’ mask started bleeding when it fell apart though, which was different. Maybe this was an homage to his brilliance, which results in wonderful lines such as “Hawkins, quit your gawkin’!” getting said.

Once Hawkins returns to the carnival he proves once again that he just isn’t all that bright. Stroud posing as a Sheriff informs him that the carnival is closed, so he bums around with Stroud for literally all of two seconds in an attempt to show that he isn’t working at the carnival. He then screws it up entirely by wandering on into the carnival before Stroud has gone, which makes him incredibly suspicious of course.

The interaction between Hawkins and Sofie didn’t annoy me particularly since they are quite sweet together. However Samson really didn’t seem impressed when he witnessed Sofie kissing Hawkins’ cheek and there’s a real sense that things starting up between them probably wouldn’t go too well. Samson tries to convince Hawkins of this, using the argument that if they get involved it’s going to end up sucking for her since Hawkins is almost certainly going to die soon. He demands that Hawkins stop being so bloody selfish. Although I suppose he does have a point I think that he could be a little nicer to Hawkins, and anyway that line of argument seems more likely to get Hawkins running for comfort while he can still get it! Sofie finally agreeing to read the cards for Hawkins brought the welcome return of Sofie’s sexin’ visions, this time featuring Sofie and Hawkins. Although he claimed that he wasn’t privy to this vision I’m pretty sure that he was lying.

The desert-based visions were well-shot, and reminded me a little of the White Room idea that was used in Angel. I didn’t really put together all the desert-based visions with the ‘false Sun’ of the atomic bombs until I read about it. Perhaps this would have been made more explicit in later seasons, for people like me who hadn’t even heard of the town of Trinity. Certainly when I watch Carnivale there’s one show that I end up thinking of quite a lot- Pushing Daisies. Whilst I do like that show a lot I have to acknowledge that it really does seem to be ripping off Ben Hawkins’ storyline- i.e. having the power to bring people back from the dead but causing others to die by doing so. Certainly Pushing Daisies pursues this in a much more fun and fluffy way, but I think that in the end the drama and despair of Carnivale is much more satisfying, and I’m worried that I’m now not going to be able to enjoy Pushing Daisies as much anymore.

Like Ned from Pushing Daisies Hawkins doesn’t know why he has these abilities. He seems far more wary of them then Ned though, possibly because he never got the opportunity to save his mother who warded him off, and because he hasn’t worked out how to make money from saving people unless it involves an annoying Christian Revivalist tent. He’s also plagued by people pushing and pulling him in different directions regarding his powers, and horrific nightmares. This leads to him being far more of a reluctant hero than even Ned, although I think painting him as the most reluctant hero is a little unfair. There’s always ridiculously lazy bastards like me after all.

The card reading and subsequent vision seems to have drawn them closer together, Hawkins doesn’t seem particularly surprised to find Sofie in his van. I suppose this could also be evidence of his general dimness as well though, he doesn’t really show any concern about the fact that a distressed woman has turned up unannounced nor does he do anything appropriately soothing. I did actually feel kind of bad for Sofie, since Hawkins couldn’t adequately explain to her why he couldn’t just leave everyone else behind and disappear with her- although that still presents no reason as to why she couldn’t run off anyway. They get to bond over their Daddy issues, and I loved the point blank way Sofie says that if she ever meets her father she’d cut him down dead for raping her mother. Hawkins manages to actually get around to being vaguely comforting and is really sweet to her, assuring her that nobody could hate her (I forgive him for this blatant lie) and goes around calling her “Sof”, unconsciously mimicking Jonesy.

The fact that Sofie and Hawkins get on well enough for Sofie to want Hawkins to run away with her makes sense, because neither of them fits into the carnival way of life properly. Hawkins is a newbie and Sofie later reveals that she wasn’t born into this way of life either. They both seem a little too normal, I suppose making them doubly liminal- they are clearly different to the people in the towns that they visit who are enchanted by the carnival but often fear and hate the people who bring it to them. Sofie’s place within the troupe was relatively secure when she had a place reading people’s fortunes with her mother’s help, but with her mother’s death Sofie doesn’t know what to do with herself and feels increasingly isolated (unsurprising since she chased away her two best friends). She attempted to become a roustie, but she really sucked at it. Hawkins is seen as too normal and dopey by a lot of the Carnivale folk; he is grudgingly accepted but he doesn’t quite fit in properly. This is deeply ironic since Hawkins and Sofie both possess mystical powers greater than those of anyone else around (except possibly Management)- although their abilities certainly would be unlikely to connote acceptance, under any analysis they are different from pretty much everyone else. I suppose it is the awareness (in Hawkins case) and suggestion (for Sofie) of these powers which makes them separate themselves off from the others more and more, and leads them to find solace in each other.

Since Sofie seems to become instantly likable and vibrant around Hawkins I really enjoyed this storyline, and felt much kinder towards Sofie for a brief while. The fact that she was constantly being set upon by visions of Apollonia and others, such as a freaky little girl, who I think may have been channelling Apollonia made me feel kind of sorry for her too. Sofie seems almost sweet when she’s wandering around barefoot looking traumatised by a small child with her horrible little doll (Carnivale may have succeeded in giving me a phobia of dolls), and the repetition of the phrase ‘every prophet in her house’ was mystifying but certainly created a sense of foreboding. The connection with the dolls and so on made me wonder if Apollonia was related to Emma Krohn somehow, it wouldn’t have really surprised me if Hawkins and Sofie had turned out to be siblings. However, the wacky incest quotient was to be filled in other ways- whilst Hawkins and Sofie must have been related somehow through his great-great-possibly some more greats-grandparents it isn’t really close enough to be shocking.

Once again Sofie claims that she’s leaving the carnival. I was suspicious since we’ve definitely heard that song before, and getting rid of an annoying character (even though she wasn’t being too bad at that moment) seemed like too much to hope for. Sofie manages to fit in a good bit of fun first anyway, despite her attempts to fight it. Hawkins eventually drags her out of the van to have their only little private dance, ‘I ain’t no Fred Astaire but I like this song!’, and despite the fact that they’re all fumbles and awkwardness they seem to enjoy themselves. I seriously cherish a decent dancing partner who’ll make a bit of an effort to dance, even if they aren’t particularly brilliant at it. Then they eventually kiss! I knew the game they were playing even if they weren’t aware of it- psychic chicken. Since they’re both ‘special children’ it was only a matter of time before one of them had a vision and started screaming. Sofie won, or I suppose lost, since she was afflicted first. Hawkins, sensitive as ever, told her that she’d just gone slightly insane since the fire and shouldn’t worry about it. Obviously his visions are bonda fide, but hers are the delusions of a crazy woman.

Hawkins and Sofie end up reminiscing about the (not all that) old days and snuggling, which was really adorable. The scene took a turn for the hot surprisingly fast, and I discovered that Nick Stahl actually has a rather attractive back. Their sex scene was wonderfully intercut with Jonesy and Felix’s mud fight, which leant a touch of the surreal to the proceedings but also made things seem even more frantic and corporeal. The fact that Sofie’s orgasms apparently have the power to affect the weather and bring much-needed rain seemed pretty ridiculous (wasn’t there a hammy X-Files episode with a woman whose emotions changed the weather?). Later events reveal that she’s the Omega, and the idea that two powerful forces coming together cause this level of tempestuousness does make sense. Hawkins was surprisingly coherent mid-coitus, perhaps that somehow makes up for his general lack of sense. Jonesy stumbling into them after his fight and their sexploits must have hurt him somewhat, even if his attentions have now shifted towards Libby. I loved the scene of Sofie frolicking in the rain afterwards, and I’m glad that they at least got to have some happiness. It’s nice that Hawkins got over his fear and hatred of sex pretty quickly.

After all of this though Hawkins finally decides to set out alone, as it really seemed that he was going to have to do for quite a while. This also allowed the format of the show to change somewhat which I think can only be a good thing. Just when the two major storylines (Hawkins’ and Justin’s) seem close to converging, the show is split into different storylines- Hawkins’, Justin’s and the carnival’s. Even a really good show can start to become stale if it consistently seems to be doing the same things- even if they are interesting and disjointing techniques. It’s always nice to see a show experiment with that, even if it doesn’t always work perfectly like with season 6 of Buffy, and to constantly throw the audience off-kilter by playing with expectations (I think Weeds does this well for example). The fact that he didn’t even wake Sofie up to say goodbye was lame and cliché beyond belief though. Of course this leads to her disappearing off all by herself (as she had said she would) and Hawkins not knowing that she’s off in the big wide world all alone. If he’d at least said goodbye and explained in even the most vague terms what he was doing she might well have agreed to wait at the carnival for his return, or they could have made alternative plans to meet. I think that Samson was a bit unfair to Jonesy in the wake of Sofie’s disappearance, whilst I do think that Jonesy could have been nicer to her I can understand his anger towards her and I don’t think that he was responsible for her choice to leave. I also really didn’t think that the show suffered from the lack of her while she was (briefly) absent.

The meeting with the other carnival, The Daily Brothers, was interesting. They suddenly seemed so exotic and different, after being acclimatised to the Carnivale troupe. They didn’t appear to actually be lousy with midgets, but they did have an elephant! The elephant was excellent in and of itself, but the scene where a drunk Felix stumbled off to pee and then discovered that the elephant was next to him was comically brilliant. I think if that had happened to me I would have run off screaming. Suddenly there was double the carnie fun- I especially liked Bree Walker as Sabina as well as her rubbish “transvestite” husband Bert (with probably the worst costume ever). Sabina’s eloctrodactyly more than made up for Hawkins’ loss of the lobster gal, and the fact that she used to be married to Samson was intriguing.

Charlie Lewis (I think the first black carnie on the show?) seemed really fun too (especially when laughing at Burleigh or perving on Lilah), although he disappeared off very quickly. It was nice that Carnivale took these others in, I suppose Samson felt a little responsible after all since it was possibly his taunting of Stroud which led to the fire at The Daily Brothers carnival. The fact that the Carnivale characters started hanging out with their Daily Brothers counterparts was fun and believable, I especially liked Lilah getting stoned with a gaggle of women and swapping beard gossip.

Sabina perving over Samson was pretty funny, as was their gropefest. It took on a new significance when it was revealed that she was doing it under Management’s orders as a way to prevent Samson getting involvled in the action that was happening in his trailer with Scudder and Hawkins. The idea that Sabina and Samson had been good friends with Management suggested that he was once capable of being fun and pleasant, but had just been warped by his illness and self-imposed isolation. The situation between Sabina and Samson led to some animosity between Bert and Samson, and Bert attempted to threaten Samson. However Samson busts out a huge knife (much bigger than Bert’s of course) from his cane. It was hilarious, Dr House really needs to look into getting one of those I feel…

Hawkins continues to be woefully unintelligent out on his own. It’s apparently inconceivable for the letters ‘H’ and ‘S’ to appear near each other on a sign without them being a divine indication of the presence of Henry Scudder. He does actually manage to track down Scudder, and the mere fact that the landlord was building a model of the Eiffel tower had me convinced that there was going to be some violence soon just so that the painstaking work put into the model would count for nothing once it was smashed and ruined. I was right about the violence, but strangely the model remained intact. The landlord directed Hawkins to Scudder’s old apartment with the puzzling advice that the door’s always open. The reason for this soon became clear- the room was occupied by three ageing, incredibly foul whores. They were utterly brilliant, especially in the way that they were completely disinterested even when all the fighting broke out right in front of them. Stroud punching a mirror would definitely have to hurt, and you’d expect some reaction!

Hawkins was treated to a vision of Scudder mutilating his face with acid in a bid to remain hidden. He then displayed impressive reasoning skills, which really seemed quite out of character, and discovered his father working downstairs. Stroud started aggressively chopping at the door that they were behind, and who doesn’t love a Shining reference? Sadly I don’t think anyone around was called Johnny… It was even funnier when the frightened landlord revealed that he’d had a key the entire time anyway. Hawkins almost managed to kill Stroud (but not quite) by healing Scudder and giving him his face, and I suppose his identity, back. Although Stroud didn’t perish at least this healing had the positive effect of making Justin violently ill. Perhaps it made him feel a little remorseful for his actions too, because really “what a day to lose the maid”, so he probably shouldn’t have raped and beaten her to the point of insanity.

I’d almost forgotten that Management, or rather Belyakov, was ‘The Russian’ in Hawkins’ dreamscape. The subtle reminded of that fact finally made me clock that clearly he was the ‘bad man’, the father that had tried to kill Iris and Justin. Hawkins really had to use all his tricks to get Scudder to agree to come and meet with Management, and ended up sounding like the parent of a small child the way that he was promising to protect him. Hawkins was appallingly rubbish at protecting Scudder from Management as it turned out, in fact for a long time he mostly just shouted “let him go!” a lot which was entirely ineffectual. Eventually Hawkins jumped into the fray and stabbed (the deformed) Belyakov an excessive amount causing him to bleed blue all over the place (which nobody seemed to think was odd). He was somehow actually still alive and managed to impart some wisdom to Hawkins, who was clearly in dire need of it.

Hawkins stabbing Justin in a vision was apparently enough to give him heartburn and a fit, he hardly seems like the toughest villain ever. He then goes on to completely suck at explaining the situation to Samson (I think that Management needed to impart a little more wisdom). Samson must be getting a tad suspicious at this point, every time he leaves Hawkins alone in that trailer he kills someone and then blames it on one of Management’s diabolical plans. Apparently the whole Scudder thing was part of the plan, Management had never wanted to kill him just wanted to use him as a pawn to ensure that Hawkins killed Management. I feel as if there could have been an easier way to get Hawkins to kill him though- he could have just annoyed him endlessly, or taken responsibility for Ruthie’s murder or even just explained the situation and asked Hawkins to kill him. I don’t understand why he couldn’t have passed on this knowledge to Hawkins without dying either, but perhaps Hawkins’ full powers couldn’t manifest with a previous avatar of Light still extant. Hawkins was far too gleeful at pointing out that he’s the ‘Prince’ being referred to. Samson was not impressed by this line of reasoning, and merely responds that Hawkins is a ‘dumb hick son of a bitch’. Fair.

Predictably nobody bothered to tell Hawkins that Sofie had left. That whole storyline seemed a little too cliché. It was weird to see the same old Hawkins in his battered dungarees suddenly being knowledgeable and muttering to himself a lot, and I’m not sure that it quite worked, at least initially. He does quickly move on to sounding manic but somewhat more intelligent which is good, although all his talk of ‘ascending’ sounded like utter bollocks, especially since it was never explained, stolen straight from Stargate. Since I’m not much of a Stargate fan (although obviously anthropologist Daniel Jackson was alright) that isn’t really a good thing. The image of Hawkins doing research with loads of books open around him was a little jarring, it’s too weird to have him suddenly be incredibly smart and it’s sad to think that this will compromise his adorable personality. I think that Firefly achieved a better version of this kind of character development with River and her sanity.

Samson goes around waving a shroud of Management’s at Hawkins, intimating (I suppose) that Management was a reincarnation of Christ. It’s never made clear exactly what or who these avatars are, the idea of avataric blood (which is apparently blue, I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a reference to royalty but that could make sense with all the references to Princes) suggests that the power is somehow kept in the family. It seems to be suggesting that both Scudder and Hawkins are therefore descendents of Christ, and that Management and Hawkins are both manifestations of God. This seems like a far more pro-Christian message but since the show also has an evil preacher who uses religion to serve his evil purposes, I’d say that the show comes out more neutral on the subject of religion than overwhelmingly positive. Hawkins is adamant that he is exactly what Management was (whatever that may have been) but Samson vehemently disagrees, ‘I’ll tell you one thing you ain’t: my friend’. I can totally understand why Samson is mad at Hawkins but it’s imperative that he get over this anger and start helping Hawkins like Management wanted. This is why Management should have involved him more, rather than sending Sabina to distract him. With Management’s death noone is officially in charge of the carnival anymore, and Samson quickly falls into doing just what Jonesy had thought he was doing all along- using Management’s name to instil fear and order people around.

The Ferris wheel eventually did break, as the show (as well as Stroud) had been hinting that it would. Hawkins listened to one woman’s prayer, ‘Please God, take me not my son’, and he obeys. His ability to drain one person’s life force and turn it over to somebody else’s suggests that he is in fact the avatar of God. I have a feeling that Pushing Daisies will never get as dark or as theological as Carnivale. It didn’t seem like a good situation for the little boy though, and I wondered if Hawkins had just orphaned him and sent him into the difficult kind of life that Hawkins himself had had, but then a loving father came bounding along to assuage these worries. All of this seemed to have a positive effect on Samson and Hawkins’ relationship, and they made up pleasantly. Whatever Hawkins is supposed to be the (re)incarnation of, he’s certainly a trustworthy type of avatar rather than one who wants to surround himself with mystery and misdirection. Hawkins spits when he shakes hands and agrees to make 50 cent bets, isn’t that what people want out of their mythical heroes? In the wake of the Ferris wheel tragedy everyone quickly readies themselves to get out of Dodge post-hastey.

Hawkins takes off by himself in order to track down Scudder, but when he comes across Libby and Jonesy just after they’ve been attacked it’s immediately obvious that he’s going to put aside his mission momentarily and save Jonesy. This is a large part of why I love Hawkins. I also loved him getting all shouty and authoritarian, and people actually listening to him for once (although I was a little concerned at him ordering Libby to drive off since I can’t recall any evidence of her being able to). It was nice to finally get to see a flashback of Jonesy playing ball, and it was a subtle reminder of his past career. Hawkins uses his powers to kill a load of birds with his mind, a useful talent and indicative of a sensible appreciation of irony since Jonesy was covered in feathers, and heals him. I was really glad that he saved Jonesy but I do think that it is a bit weak as a plot devise since it’s like a get out of jail card that can be utilised at any time, and gives far too much of a sense of security since it’s unlikely that any of the main characters will die (in a permanent way). It can lead to too many twists and turns in a way that stops feeling interesting but just becomes par for the course, like in season two of Heroes.

Hawkins doesn’t get a ‘thank you’, but at least gets an awed ‘why?’ and both Jonesy and Libby are clearly thankful. I loved the way that Hawkins simply brushes away the fact that what he’s done is clearly impossible by stating that ‘everything’s impossible until it ain’t’ which is a wonderful truism. After this explanation the first thing that Jonesy thought of was his leg, I’m not sure if he was about to demand that Hawkins heal it now or perhaps berate him for not doing so, but he cuts open his trousers and realises that his leg has in fact been completely healed along with the rest of him. I can completely understand why he is so happy about it, but I feel that a man whose just been brought back from the brink of death to spend his life with his beautiful young wife ought to be ecstatic whether or not he has a leg brace. Since it’s Jonesy I don’t really mind though, and enjoyed all his whooping and running about.

Hawkins didn’t even seem to be pissed off about losing time when he should have been hunting down Scudder and Stroud, although perhaps he ought to be. Jonesy didn’t even seem to see the irony in asking where the fire is when he questions Hawkins on his fast driving. Jonesy then insists on coming with Hawkins, presumably as some kind of thank you gift. No proper explanation of this is given beyond ‘I don’t know, it’s just something that I gotta do’, nor is there one for why Hawkins accepts. I mean it doesn’t sound completely implausible that he’d agree (especially as he didn’t have time to argue and just wanted to get going) but at least a cursory explanation such as strength in numbers or indeed in Jonesy’s arms would have been nice. Jonesy does prove to be especially useful in one area- not sounding like a hick and therefore making people co-operate with them a little more. However, Jonesy quickly gets pissed off with Hawkins’ caginess and the lack of information he has. I think it’s a little hypocritical to whine about this though when he’s the one who forced his (admittedly sometimes helpful) presence on Hawkins for nebulous reasons.

The German hotelier they stumble across was absolutely brilliant with his no-nonsense attitude and bitterness, “This isn’t the fucking Ritz, this is Cheyenne, Wyoming”, and then blathering on about a variety of topics including a fat American woman, the weather, Jonesy’s gun and his theory that Stroud and Scudder are scummy druggies. He insisted on blathering loudly even when they were attempting to be stealthy, but as it turned out there was no need for subtlety since Stroud and Scudder were already gone. I feel that Scudder’s place in the show’s mythology was never fully explained. Scudder was supposed to be an avatar of Darkness and was apparently trying to kill Management (unless of course Management made that up too, but I don’t think so, or if it was purely in self-defence which is possible) but Scudder doesn’t seem particularly evil, the only thing he did was steal Lodz’s eyesight and that was a fair exchange anyway. Mostly he just seems scared and worried. I understand that Justin as the Usher was supposed to be more evil than previous avatars, but it doesn’t seem difficult to be more evil than the mostly benign Scudder.

Libby ends up blabbing the secret to her mother who doesn’t believe her and repeats it to Lilah who is clearly intent on bringing Lodz back to life. I think that would have been an interesting plot twist that I wish the series had had time to explore, although at the same time it would be a bit pointless if Hawkins were able to go about resurrecting anyone at any point, and would present a lot of plot issues since noone would really need to fear death. Samson apparently heard Rita Sue talking about this to Lilah, and I don’t understand why he didn’t at least attempt to intercede and shut her up. Samson does attempt to comfort Libby at least (who, even after all she has been through, is still utterly terrified of Management’s trailer). It’s really nice for Libby to know that somebody believes her, and Samson can offer some real empathy since he has seen a horrific tarring himself. To be honest I really think that things could be a lot worse for Libby since she’s just witnessed a miracle, and she doesn’t need to be so angry at herself for blabbing especially since noone believed her. I think she probably just needed to let some of her emotions out since she had been through so much in such a short space of time, and Samson is such a sweetheart (to her and Sofie especially) and pops up at exactly the right time.

The random German guy turns up at the carnival, and blusters angrily about people calling him Fritz when his name is Klaus, which I loved. However his message (the newspaper that Jonesy and Hawkins had found with information about and a picture of Brother Justin) to Samson probably could have been sent via telephone or telegram easily. I guess they might have had literally no money as Samson is the one who has to pay him the ten dollars. I’m not quite sure why Samson was so rude to him though since he was doing him a favour, was America pretty anti-German during the 1930s? I thought that it didn’t become so til during the second world war, but I suppose in the wake of the first world war there might also be some anti-German sentiment.

Lilah is comically over-sexed (there was a moment when I honestly thought she was going to attempt to lure Samson off), and I think that’s part of why she befriends Ruthie when she realises that Ruthie may be being possessed by Lodz. She starts forcing her company on Ruthie more and more, clearly in an attempt to sex Lodz-in-Ruthie up, which really is all kinds of wrong when you think about it. Lodz leaves a message for Ruthie on the mirror, that Sofie is the Omega, but it’s never properly explained. It suggests that she is the end, and also possibly the opposite, but this really did need further explanation. I loved Ruthie’s disturbed expression as she rubbed this confounding message off the mirror and started at her wobbly reflection and clearly contemplated her distorted sense of self.

Lilah wakes up and discovers that possessed Ruthie has been performing cunilingus in her sleep. Lilah is quite happy to take advantage of this and it’s played for laughs really with Lodz’s ridiculous endearments and Ruthie’s confusion upon waking. However it really is a horrible violation of Ruthie by both Lilah and Lodz, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that Lilah was an utter bitch to her when she woke up. I’m pretty sure there was a vaguely similar Xena episode where Xena and Gabrielle finally kissed because one (or perhaps both) of them was possessed by someone or other. I just prefer my “lesbian” storylines with less possession and more consent personally.

The first episode included an absolutely perfect scene between Iris and Justin that was just so charged and tense, and was achieved without a word. I love Amy Madigan so freaking much, I wish more women in their 50s decked out in unbelievably frumpy outfits and bonnets could somehow be as sexy as her. I adore Iris’ voice as well, it just seems to change and almost warble so perfectly in a way that conveys her vulnerability and determination, and she has a beautiful singing voice.


She really brings so much to the scenes between Iris and Justin, there’s the suggestion of evil and incest but it’s never quite affirmed. The creators of Carnivale seemed inclined to producing scenes which could be interpreted in various different ways, and instead of providing a way to read these scenes they seemed determined to leave them open. This can work quite well for a film or a book, but can be a little frustrating in a television show because it makes it quite hard for the story to move on, in terms of Iris and Justin’s interaction it works pretty well though. The mystery surrounding them just seems impenetrable, not only for the audience but for them too. I do think that the show can occassionally be clunky, but I can overlook that because most of the ideas and language of the show (as well as the cinematography and score) are just so brilliant, and wonderfully dark and twisted.

One thing about their relationship that I found especially confusing (at least initially) was their choice to continue to use the language of Christianity even when they’re alone together. Justin still speaks of himself as on a ‘religious’ mission, and doesn’t seem to be doing so in an ironic way. Of course his aims could be interpreted as religious in a sense, but it still seems a little odd. I wonder if perhaps it was a conscious decision as an attempt to comment on the secret or double lives of the clergy and, perhaps to a lesser extent, Christians/religious people in general. Choosing to have the avatar of Darkness portrayed by a Minister (even if no deeper meaning was meant) cannot help but seem meaningful. I took it as certainly meant to convey a warning about believing too heavily in anything, and being too eager to hope. Maybe that’s partly due to reading Dune recently though.

I was a little bewildered as to how Iris managed to transition so quickly from an attitude of ‘I do everything for you, you never have to ask’ to ‘if you want me to do this you’re going to have to ask’ in about five seconds, but since it led to a powerful scene I don’t really mind. Later when Iris gives a heartfelt apology to Justin for not being able to give him what he wants I knew exactly what she was referring to- remorse. She can’t feel sorry for causing the deaths of the orphans because it set all the following events in motion.

I loved Iris’ ambiguous, yet clearly evil, smirk when she brought Celeste into their home as their new servant. Iris and Justin seem to constantly be embroiled in complicated power plays, and whilst it isn’t entirely clear what she hopes to achieve by including Celeste (to lead Justin into temptation and thus further evil or perhaps to sexually satisfy him while continuing to tempt him herself and thus retain power?), it’s clearly a loaded move. Justin also starts frequenting Chin’s, the local house of ill repute. It’s a place which seems to offer an odd range of services, including ones performed by small boys. I feel that getting a giant tattoo of a tree without any evidence of explanation or even a vague sketch probably isn’t a service offered all that widely however. I’m a little peeved that no explanation was given for how the (supposed) whore was involved in what was going on, and hope that some development was imminent rather than the mere fact that she was foreign and exotic being enough. There seemed to be a suggestion that Chin’s might have some relevance to Justin’s powers back in season one in terms of his first vision, although that might just have been because it gave him useful information with which to blackmail people.

I seriously adored Justin’s dirty sketches, the idea of nymphomania being a symptom of evil (still not making any David Duchovny jokes) is a little played out, but I think it worked pretty well here because it made Justin seem creepier, especially because the idea of an over-sexed member of the clergy seems jarring enough even when they aren’t evil masterminds as well. Justin definitely seems to have an obsessive personality disorder, his waffling about salt was amusing since it was so random. He may have a milk obsession too (which is nicely incongruous too, and reminds me a little of the germ obsessed Mayor in season three of Buffy), however he’s clearly willing to sacrifice his beloved dairy products for a higher purpose. His completely insincere “Oh dear” when he knocks over his glass of milk just tops off the ridiculousness of his ploy to get Celeste on her knees in front of him, where she then cleans his boots for him. It doesn’t end there though, there’s a slightly random exchange where he asks her if her mother taught her to pray and she affirms it, which may or may not be enquiring as to whether or not her mother taught her how to give blowjobs, and then suddenly everything gets steamy.

Justin is incredibly cruel to Norman (but it’s great to watch). He starts of relatively tamely, merely taunting him by claiming to be better than Jesus. However, he quickly moves on to getting off with Celeste in front of Norman (she seems to be so in awe of Justin that she doesn’t question it), or having sex so violently in the room above Norman that the ceiling seems in danger of collapsing. As soon as Justin calmly tells Iris that he doesn’t think that Celeste is working out as a maid she seems a little panicked, it’s clear that she’s expecting something. However I think the weeping maniacal, battered naked woman in the corner surprised even her. In light of this Justin’s calm smile and seemingly kind welcome to her replacement become positively chilling.

Justin’s interaction with Norman sometimes follows a similar pattern to that between Justin and Iris in that he continues to use the language of Christianity, and to affect concern. Here it seems as if he’s trying to mock and demoralise Norman however, so it doesn’t seem as ambiguous. It must be very troubling for the devout man who raised Justin to hear his ideas twisted and spat back at him, plus the use of such language makes it just a mite more difficult to pin Justin as evil I suppose. Justin clearly hasn’t thrown off all of his (former?) religion’s hold on him, the way he stiffens when the Bishop talks about the ninth circle of hell being reserved for betrayers was a good indication of this. There are moments though, like when Iris eavesdrops on Justin talking to Norman, when he just seems so sweet and vulnerable- and it certainly seems as if the religion he was brought up with still has a strong hold on him. It would be possible to interpret things as meaning that Justin honestly thinks he’s on a mission from God, but I think that he is derogatory enough about Jesus and God whilst being aware enough of the dark nature of his powers for this to not be the case, although the allure of this idea could still colour his perceptions. Justin’s mockery of the Bible I think supports my argument that he doesn’t think he’s on a Godly mission. He claims that he never really liked the Bible, beyond the good use of repetition and laughs heartily at the ridiculous notion that the meek shall inherit the Earth.

I’m not all that well-versed in religion, so there may be greater symbolism to things that I miss. For example, I assumed that the tree (both tattoo and actual) was supposed to represent the Tree of Knowledge (as apparently it was). However, when Justin finds it and takes it as a marker for where to build his new temple (and New Canaan) I wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be a reference to Moses being told to build the temple on Mount Sinai. I can’t remember a reference to a tree then, but I assume that Mount Sinai is covered in olive trees so it might be relevant. Justin also certainly has an interesting concept for the new Garden- it’ll come complete with radio towers! Just more proof that technology truly is the work of the Devil.

Brother Justin has an excellent command-y voice (in contrast I think that most of the time his demonic voice sounded rather lame). In fact his voice is so great that he gets to be on the radio! The idea of the ‘Church of the Air’ seemed pretty funny, until the way that Justin was utilising it was revealed. In fact he was actually corrupting Biblical verse by using it as a cover to get his message to his archangel to kill. The notion of the manifestation of evil using religious material like this is suitably creepy, but coupled with the image of him going to sleep with a crucifix over his bed it’s just deliciously twisted. I really liked the fact that the scene in which Brother Justin uses his radio broadcast to command Stroud to murder was immediately contrasted with the image of a nun in bright white. Not only is this a nice cut, it also makes the audience a little uncomfortable because they are forced to question the inherent goodness of such a character and image, since the supposedly kindly Methodist Minister has already been revealed to essentially be the Devil.

The choice to make the Usher a Russian-born naturalized American was interesting, although tempered by the ambiguous morality of Iris and the fact that their father Lucius Belyakov was an avatar of Light, I took it as clearly trying to point out the fact that Ayn Rand is evil. Clearly.

Sadly demonic radio powers don’t seem to cut both ways, it’s quite amusing to see the Antichrist and his servant communicating by telegraph though. Almost as innocuous as telegraphing was Justin’s rants against banks and the ‘craven men’ who run them, or the ‘alphabet soup’ of federal assistance. Justin’s servant, Stroud, can clearly be identified as a tool of evil since he goes around whistling far too much. I hate people who whistle, they all ought to be shot. Stroud manages to make a lot of people very uncomfortable, he totally freaks Jonesy out by intimating that he’d damage the ferris wheel. It made me think about just how much I’d hate the responsibility of running a ride, I wouldn’t want people’s lives in my unsteady hands… Whilst Stroud is good at putting people on edge I really don’t think that it he displays an effective method for getting information from people- pissing people off rarely works. Pissing Samson off leads to him squinting and informing Stroud that the rival show is ‘lousy with midgets’ though, which did make me giggle.

Stroud is shown to be a ruthless and ingenious adversary. I liked his admonishment that the best way to follow someone is to get ahead of them, and he put it to effect well. He manages to kidnap Scudder, and there was a random but brilliant scene of a couple of thieves trying to hold up a gas station that he happened to have stopped at. They were hilarious with their faux-politeness and wild eyes, and Stroud shooting them and everyone else had me giggling probably a bit too much. Hawkins ‘haunting’ of Stroud was pretty damn brilliant too.

I loved the inclusion of a fictitious gospel (the Book of Matthias), but I was sometimes honestly shocked as to how Carnivale managed to get on television considering the way it treats the subject of religion. I know that it’s now only a few short years later, but in the wake of recent FCC craziness (as mocked by Studio 60 repeatedly) I wonder if Carnivale wouldn’t be getting heavily protested by the Christian Right if it was airing now. Or perhaps it did at the time? I was pretty surprised to find out that Daniel Knauf, the creator, is Catholic (although all the anti-Catholic jokes started to make more sense). Carnivale often includes some very powerful (and perhaps disturbing) religious imagery, for example Ben’s vision of Justin forcefully praying in Latin and achieving the destruction of the image of the Virgin Mary, with the image of a young Christ turning to him for salvation.

I loved the line, ‘Folks hold their prophets to pretty high standards. Even in California’. I love Dolan quite a lot, and like him I could eat breakfast three times a day. I adored Dolan for a lot of reasons in that breakfast scene, amongst them: for talking about unwed mothers without any negative stigma; for talking about the charred flesh of children whilst savagely cutting his breakfast; for actually suspecting a woman of murder (television doesn’t do that enough, Dexter thus far I’m looking at you) and for quickly switching back from the topic of murder to breakfast, specifically toast, and confusing the hell out of the poor waitress at the same time. I love toast too. ‘A toast to toast, I love toast!’

Dolan ends up hardcore stalking Iris, he really looked like a cigarette advert! I do think that he’s pretty quick to convict Iris (not that he’s wrong), especially considering that he had feelings for her. Although he did see her drive off into the middle of nowhere and burn a pile of her clothes I feel that there is a margin there for some doubt. I wonder if Dolan’s claim that they didn’t hang women in California in the 1930s was factually true, or if he meant that it was very unlikely that Iris would be executed for her crime? Dolan seemed like he was trying to assure himself of that in an attempt to make himself feel better.

I couldn’t quite understand Justin’s decision to make Iris’ arrest so public within a Church setting, especially straight after her leading the choir. It seemed like such a choice would reflect negatively on him and his church. Then I quickly tweaked that the plan was actually to accuse Dolan, but the set up was ludicrously simple. Dolan started reading out Iris’ statement, and wasn’t allowed to finish thus making it seem that he was confessing. I feel that Dolan might have been able to make people understand the circumstances once things had calmed down a little, but instead he was never heard from again. It is plausible that Justin had enough control over the police and public opinion by that point anyway. It was incredibly cruel of Justin to not let Iris in on the plan, she really had thought he was going to force her to turn herself in. As a result she was livid, even though she had been granted a reprieve. She simply couldn’t conceal her anger at the fact that he’d made her feel penance and turn to a higher power for salvation. At least this proved for her that she didn’t need to worry that Justin had taken Dolan into his confidence and now preferred him to her.

My Russian language skills, formidable as they are since I can count to ten, don’t extend to knowing what she called him in her anger but I’d bet on something akin to ‘motherfucker’, and in a pretty good accent too. I love the “coded” nature of non-English swearing on American television, it’s not so important on cable shows like Carnivale where swearing is allowed, but on other shows it can be really fun. Sometimes shows make up their own inventive swears, such as Red Dwarf‘s ‘smeg’, Young American‘s heartfelt ‘shut your crumpet’ and Gossip Girl‘s brilliant ‘motherchucker’. Extremely British swearing is generally acceptable on American television too, so Buffy was often full of ‘bloody buggering hell’ and so on, and the word ‘berk’ can be thrown about willy-nilly. ‘Berk’ isn’t really considered to be excessively rude, at least not by anyone I know, but the discovery that it’s actually Cockney rhyming slang for ‘cunt’ (Berkley hunt) makes the fact that it’s fine to say on American television deeply amusing.

Iris seems to have decided to pursue her evil agenda with renewed vigour in any effort to get the stench of penance off of her. This is evidenced by her casual dismissal of the new maid as being ‘nervous’. I suppose it’s always possible that that was a 1930s synonym for ‘raped and battered to insanity’ but somehow it seems unlikely. As she mutters to Norman, Iris is determined to ensure that she remains continually necessary to Justin so that she isn’t left behind by him when he reaches success. Her monologuing didn’t seem at all grating to me, because it demonstrates perfectly how she’s unravelling and panicking. She seemed to manage to steel her nerves well, by the time Justin’s writhing around on the floor in agony clutching at himself after Hawkins attacked his tree she merely widened her eyes, whereas Eleanor at least had the decency to scream and drop stuff. She explains the event away to Justin later by telling him that he just had one of his spells, I was trying to remember if he often seemed to be having epileptic fits that I’d somehow blanked out of my memory, but I think she meant it was one of the times in which he was obviously possessed. Eleanor ends up seeing him thus and is adamant that she saw the Devil in Brother Justin.

Eleanor just seems like such a simple religious woman with hard-held notions of good and evil that it’s almost impossible for Iris to convince her that she didn’t see such a thing. However Iris perseveres and utilises every trick she can think of, including a lot of patronage, to sway Eleanor around to her point of view (and also to remind me that I’ve always hated people who say ‘look at your face’, unless they’re referring to a picture). Despite having convinced Eleanor that she never saw anything demonic Iris ends up killing her for suggesting that she would tell Justin about all of this because he’d enjoy it as a joke. This made me wonder if Justin did somehow think that he was doing God’s work, or perhaps have some kind of split-personality thing going on, where sometimes he was possessed by the persona of the Usher and sometimes was a perfectly nice preacher. This would also explain his continued use of the language of Christianity, even in ways that don’t seem ironic, and his occasional kind treatment of Norman.

However, Iris’ subsequent behaviour is somewhat confusing. She claims that she wants to expose Justin and is secretly working against him. It’s possible that she says so in an attempt to toy with Norman, but her later behaviour adds credence to her claim. I suppose it could have been battering Eleanor to death that made her have a change of heart, or perhaps she was always working against Justin- and in fact only killed the orphans in an attempt to set all these events into motion too quickly to somehow stop Justin coming to power. If she truly did mean to betray Justin it could explain why she (and in turn he) continued to use religious language, because not only would it still have a hold over her she probably wouldn’t be able to discuss his evil plans properly. Either way it’s something which certainly needed to be properly explored and wasn’t.

I really loved the cut from the dance tent with the supposedly sinful Rita Sue and Libby stripping to Brother Justin’s church tent. It was a nice juxtaposition, and illustrates well the insidious evil nature of Justin purporting to bring salvation and goodness. Due to his position in the clergy he has a full arsenal of weapons at his disposal which one assumes an avatar of Darkness wouldn’t normally have. He can really whip people up into a religious fervour and cannily utilise ‘the good’. This, I think, explains in part the decision of the Carnivale creators to make the Usher a religious man- when Justin discovered his path he felt that God had abandoned him. As Justin himself points out, ‘what is the Devil himself if not a fallen angel?’, I think that it was this knowledge and ability which made him an excellent choice as the Usher, rather than it being meant as an attack on religion and religious people. This doesn’t sometimes stop me being convinced that sometimes the creators of Carnivale were sometimes thinking that religious fanatics deserve what they got if they allow themselves to be duped however. Justin also takes a strong stand against the Church authorities influencing his radio sermons, and does it in a way which backs them into a corner and makes it very difficult to argue against him- all while boldly comparing himself to Jesus. I loved his superiors’ response to this, they were clearly terrified (in the same way that the hicks were in abject fear of Krohn) of someone who seemed to have so much passion and integrity.

However Brother Justin does something which I don’t think the type of person he’s impersonating would ever do in the way that he mixes politics and religion. He is opportunistic and false; eager to take advantage. Justin later claims that the separation of Church and State was invented by the Devil to stop Christians running their own country (the US belongs to Christians, who knew?). He decides to get the extremely irritating Val elected which I really suspect would require a knowledge of the dark arts since the man has such an annoying voice. ‘Porcine patsy’ was an excellent description of the man who goes around blaspheming in front of Justin all the time and says things like “Goddamn atheists!” without a hint of irony. Val seems entirely stupid, he doesn’t bother to question why Justin’s suddenly being so nice to him now. Personally I think that Justin rather liked the irony of making Val dependent on the Oakies, who he’d so despised, for votes. Justin might just like keeping him around to insult him too, I loved the repetition of the pig theme when he starts rhapsodising about his bacon sandwich (and he displayed excellent recall of Biblical verse still).

A couple of episodes after Sofie left the carnival it is revealed that she’s Justin’s new maid, that was a twist that I didn’t see coming. Sofie doesn’t really fit into the facade of asceticism which Iris has tried to create, she’s full of that vibrant, fun energy which she used to use to wake people in sleepy towns up, and looks prettier than she ever had before now that she’s all cleaned up. Sofie gets mildly told off by Iris when she attempts to take Justin his breakfast with crazy extravagances like butter, sugar, milk and, of all things, flowers. However Sofie is not cowed and puts the flowers back on the tray, determined to spread some simple joy- and Justin seems to really appreciate it. Norman reasserts his good guy status by at least attempting to warn Sofie about the situation she’s walked into, and happily snickering at Justin when he appears to be unsuccessful in his flirtations. Since Sofie is by no means a timid girl who is awed by Justin and his religious importance like the previous maids it seems unlikely that Justin would be able to trap her.

Norman somehow gets a gun from somewhere- a chain of events that I think really needed some sort of explanation- and attempted to shoot Justin. Justin’s style of commanding people in the aftermath was incredibly over the top, and I would have thought that it might actually turn people against him but it clearly didn’t. The people beating up Norman were frightening in fact, especially considering that he’s an elderly invalid. Suddenly Sofie ended up joining in the applause for Justin, suggesting that she’d already been taken in by Justin’s bullshit. Although I think in part she was just impressed by his treatment of, and kind words about, someone who reminded her of her mother. Justin’s response to Norman was really quite mild in fact, he merely told Norman that he was very disappointed in him. Norman still manages to take a brilliant sadistic pleasure in witnessing Justin’s ‘episode’ when he bodily reacts to Hawkins healing Jonesy.

It turns out that Sofie is indeed a complete idiot, and is already pronouncing Justin ‘a great man’. I was certain that Hawkins would walk in on them in bed together eventually. Justin manages to be fairly endearing after he’s already duped her, which seems like a bit of a waste. He does seem to have a good enough handle on her to effectively con her, he plays up his slightly naughty side. When he hears her swearing he tells her that vulgarity isn’t a sin against God but against polite society, and that polite society ought to be tolerated since they make large contributions to him and even swears in front of her. The fact that he gets turned on by her beating the carpets is a nice nod back to his earlier masochistic tendencies (he displayed a penchant for whipping himself), and apparently signals his evilness.

Iris and Sofie finally get a chance to bond, I don’t understand why Iris thinks that Sofie is an unusual name (unless she was perhaps commenting on the spelling, which she doesn’t seem to be) but at least it allows an in into conversation, as well as some of Sofie’s history. Iris asks her if she’s Jewish and Sofie casually replies ‘not that I know of’, and explains that her mother was Roma. I liked that Iris doesn’t seem shocked by this, or care that they have a Gypsy maid. It was nice to have a vaguely decent mention of Roma in a television show, even if it was very brief, in contrast with the gypsy curses and ridiculously clichéd characters of Buffy andAngel.

I liked that Sofie at least remembered to try to be evasive and protect herself, it didn’t last that long but Iris is pretty convincing. Sofie starts telling her about her childhood, but I can’t hear the words ‘St Paul, Minnesota’ without hearing Johnny Cash singing Big River in my head so I might have missed something. It was nice to get a glimpse of Sofie’s early life, and I think the casting for mini-Sofie was excellent. The big reveal was that Justin is in fact Sofie’s father, and upped the wacky incestual ante since he’d been lusting after his own daughter. I liked this twist a lot, especially because giving Iris this sweet niece who’d suffered so much because of Justin seems to give Iris something more to make her want to fight against Justin. However it also means that Justin didn’t recently become a rapist or obsessive, and one must surmise that his evil tendencies were never latent (at least for long periods). This calls into question why Justin never realised that he was evil before, since surely he would have questioned such actions? Therefore it adds credence to the idea that Justin has an almost split personality, sometimes being possessed by the Usher persona but not always (assumedly these memories would be repressed at other times). It’s very frustrating because I bet this would have been addressed and answered in later seasons.

One thing that I really liked about the episodic nature of Carnivale is that it allowed sections of the story to be tied together thematically. For example in the episode in which Sofie’s Roma identity is very important because it allows Iris to identify her as Justin’s daughter, Rita Sue also gives a throwaway mention to some gypsies that Felix claimed ambushed him years ago. I doubt that that would have become important (although it’s always possible) but it gives the episode a nice, connected feel.

Justin reveals that he was aware of Iris and Norman’s plan to thwart him. This, and Iris’ reaction to it, make me think that Iris was telling the truth although that certainly isn’t definite. It still doesn’t explain at all why Iris would turn against her brother at all. I really don’t think there was any call for Justin to call her a dried up old spinster, that was just unnecessarily rude. They ended up having a completely fucked up version of a family meal, full of hatred, and then Justin invites Sofie to sit down and eat with them, and only Iris was aware that Sofie is indeed family. Stroud also starts perving on Iris a lot, it’s possible that Justin gave him permission to harass her after her attempt at betrayal. Stroud wasn’t actually all that forceful however, he mostly just talked about her frillies.

Justin gets very excited about the notion of killing Scudder himself with his own two hands, and Stroud seems almost paternalistic in his encouragement of this simple joy. Justin gets really angry at Wilfred for discouraging him from killing Scudder immediately, which is stupid of him because Wilfred clearly knows what he’s talking about. He claims that Justin shouldn’t kill Scudder while he’s drugged because that means that he won’t receive his mysterious ‘boon’ (it sounds almost like a computer game at this point), at least it seems that Stroud’s horrible treatment of Scudder, keeping him drugged, inadvertently granted Scudder a reprieve. I suppose that Justin’s anger at having to restrain himself illustrates that he’s becoming more demonic and straying ever further from his religion.

It turns out that Wilfred and Scudder know each other of old, and Wilfred makes a horrible deal with Scudder. He offers to kill him (so that Justin cannot and therefore will be denied his boon) if Scudder reveals the whereabouts of some manuscript. Scudder acquiesces but Wilfred refuses to keep his word and kill him saying, “Sorry old chum but we all have to give the Devil his due”. Scudder gets really angry and actually manifests some evil powers, in a really well-shot scene which made excellent use of colour. I don’t understand why he didn’t do that earlier, perhaps he needed to be really angry. If he was willing to let Wilfred kill him I don’t understand why he didn’t attempt to kill himself instead.

Wilfred’s mutilated body was pretty scary, so I think that Stroud should have had more concern for his own safety when he found it rather than being amused. Justin’s subordinates bitching about whether or not they get paid, “We’re volunteers, we don’t get paid jackass”, was a nice bit of light relief. I always like these insightful little asides which look at characters like that which are often seen as one-dimensional. The West Wing also made good use of that, such as having the Joint Chiefs discussing coffee idly before the President walks into the room and then suddenly standing to attention and becoming very serious and professional.

Quickly we’re back into the action again, with a scene that seems like a vision due to the bright colours and surreal quality of it. However it is not merely a vision as Scudder is in reality brutally killed by Justin who was hiding in the back of his getaway car. I’m still a little confused, if Scudder was an avatar of Dark surely he ought to be Justin’s ally? I’m not sure if Scudder was a rogue avatar and therefore an anomaly, or if all avatars have to kill off their predecessor to gain some kind of boon (this would mean that the boon is most likely knowledge since that’s what Hawkins gained from killing Management) and are therefore perhaps pre-programmed with hatred towards said predeccesor. Hawkins soon finds Scudder’s decapitated head with his face stuck in a scream of terror, which I imagine would fuck him up quite a lot. He doesn’t move to bury it or even inform Jonesy of his find. At least this indicates that Hawkins’ powers don’t present a get-out clause for every situation, as he is unable to heal Scudder with only his head.

Hawkins and Jonesy manage to infiltrate Justin’s camp at New Canaan with amazing disguises- a couple of hats. Jonesy acts in a comically shifty manner, and I’m surprised that they weren’t thrown out immediately. It appears that Hawkins must have explained everything (about Scudder, Management and the avatars in general) to Jonesy, who displays an uncharacteristic level of acceptance. I loved Hawkins incredibly lame recon mission, and his deadbeat “Is that so?” to a follower’s assertion that he’d be surprised at the number of people who want to kill Brother Justin. Hawkins develops a brilliant plan for killing Brother Justin- he decides to smuggle a knife in some wood into the house. Meanwhile Sofie was flouncing around wanting to be baptised, I was really hoping that Hawkins would be able to come and rescue her from this drudgery, or just kill her. Either way.

Hawkins, as usual, was wonderfully sweaty and wary, darting about the house. He bumps into Norman who decides to trust him for no good reason and try to help him. I suppose by this point Norman must have been so desperate that he’d take any chance, but I don’t understand why he didn’t at least try to communicate with Sofie properly now that he’s able to at least write notes. All of Hawkins’ wanderings around the house seemed rather unlikely- he takes a blood stained shard of a broken mirror as incredibly interesting, incriminating evidence although it isn’t really. Despite the fact that he’s been inside the house for ages the guards don’t appear to have raised the alarm or mentioned anything to Iris who then discovers him. Hawkins and Iris enjoy some utterly random and non-sensical interaction, which results in Iris dismissing him from the house and cherishing the hatchet that she makes him leave behind, which just seemed incredibly odd.

Hawkins concocts a brilliant new plan, involving getting baptised. I think there’s just something wonderful about someone who’s apparently supposed to be the avatar of Christ reluctantly getting baptised as a ploy to murder a preacher, and to a lesser extent any people in pristine white robes clutching weapons ought to be celebrated. It’s at this point that he discovers Sofie, and the two of them stare meaningfully at each other for a while before Hawkins disappears. I’m glad that Sofie was completely distracted and thinking about sex as she was about to get baptised. The baptism (and indeed the pond) were somewhat ruined by Eleanor’s corpse floating past- which seemed somewhat ominous.

Hawkins manages to catch up with Sofie later and gets a chance to display his inability to explain anything simply and succinctly. His opening line, “The preacher, he’s evil!” wasn’t the best beginning, but following it with the insistence that it must be true because it happens in his dreams was catastrophic. Then he heads into television cliché land with “He’s not who you think he is” which roughly translates into “blah-di-blah, do not listen to what I have to say”. Sofie is, of course, as annoying as one can be. She follows Hawkins into played-out clichés by asserting “you don’t know him, he’s a good man!” and then refusing to listen to any of Hawkins’ rational arguments once he finally thinks to use them.

When Sofie returns to the house Iris sees that she seems a little disturbed, and tries to soothe her by talking about how overwhelming being reborn is. Iris becomes rather flustered when Sofie explains about the discovery of Eleanor’s body, perhaps she feels some remorse about the fact that her sins are coming back to haunt her niece. Iris feigns shock and despair, and quickly sets about ‘explaining’ the situation away as a drowning, which only serves to make her sound guilty. When she discovers that Justin claimed her death was a suicide she decides to go along with that line of reasoning. Meanwhile Sofie seems to be barely paying attention to Iris anyway, she merely wants Iris’ reassurance that Justin truly is a good man after everything that Hawkins said.

It transpires that Iris kept Hawkins’ hatchet as a sort of test. She left it on Justin’s bed and discovered that when he touches it it physically hurts him. Not only does she get to cause him pain but she’s discovered a potential ally in Hawkins. Later Sofie hears Iris and Justin talking in Russian and seems to suspect that Hawkins was correct, there is a subtle difference between being Russian and being evil but Hawkins had informed her that Justin’s Russian too. However I’m not really sure why they were speaking in Russian since they hardly ever do, it just seemed a tad too convenient for Sofie to overhear them. Sofie also sees Justin toying with some of his terrified subordinates which seems to convince her that he isn’t a good man, and perhaps the fact that he basically has a huge army living in abject fear of him starts to seep into her brain and demand consideration. The thing which finally incriminates him is Hawkins’ death mask which she finds, and his over-zealous response to it- demanding information from her. He quickly realises that intimidation is the wrong tactic and aims for sweetness and light but it’s already too late. Sofie attempts to lie her way out of the situation, but does let slip that his name is Ben.

Justin drops the topic and once again gets Sofie to sit down with them, this time explicitly saying ‘just like a real family’ and trying to get Sofie to sit next to him. Justin exudes creepiness and is especially cruel to Norman- denying him Sofie’s assistance and taunting him for being unable to feed himself properly. Iris takes her own type of revenge on him when he has to go and answer the telephone by ordering Sofie to clear his plate and rapidly feeding Norman. Her frantic, fearful behaviour certainly suggests that Iris’ attempted betrayal of Justin wasn’t a fake-out. She also confides in Norman what she discovered about Sofie, although I still don’t understand how she’s so certain that Sofie is Apollonia and Justin’s child unless the was also privy to the vision. Justin’s previous obsessive behaviour (presumably with a noticeable sexual tinge) towards Apollonia was known by Norman, which makes me wonder why Norman wasn’t more concerned about Justin. Surely he ought to have done something about it long ago? Then again he obviously had strong paternal feelings about Justin and Iris, and may have felt unable to punish or betray them (like Dexter’s foster father).

Jonesy leaves Hawkins to his own devices and quickly returns to the carnival, where Libby is overjoyed to see him and prove to her mother that he really didn’t leave her. Rita Sue seemed genuinely happy for Libby for about a whole second, or perhaps she was just awed by his return. As Felix tells her almost kindly, ‘You know baby you’re really going to have to get over him one of these days’. Samson continues to ignore Lilah’s demand for information of, or searches for, Lodz which is probably what makes her so desperate. She whips most of the carnival up into a frenzy, resulting in her descending on Management’s trailer and discovering, of course, that there’s noone there. It seems as if everyone is about to turn on Samson because they suspect him of having lied to them always. Jonesy has to reveal to them that Hawkins fixed his leg (which is a much less impressive story than the true extent of the healing that Jonesy underwent). It’s not the most believable story, Rita Sue actually swoons, but Jonesy and Samson manage to convince them and rally the troops to back Hawkins up.

Sofie is utterly rubbish at being deferential, in both actions and tone, which I actually rather liked. Nonetheless Justin is excellent at getting her to obey, and manages to get her to sit with him outside. Hawkins never does discover them in bed together, but he does have to endure listening to Justin sweet talking her rather well since he’s managed to pick up on Sofie’s intuitive nature and her doubts. Apparently the mere presence of Hawkins’ knife causes Justin physical pain, which must have been somewhat gratifying- especially when listening to Justin’s murmurings about the hand maidens of Christ and trying to kiss her. Thankfully Sofie did at least pull away and appeared to have not been completely taken in. Jonesy randomly pops up from nowhere and stops Hawkins from taking the opportunity to kill Justin and save Sofie, claiming that it would be suicide. Hawkins doesn’t care that he would have been killed, and is adamant that Sofie cannot necessarily take care of herself in this situation.

The notion of the Usher being terrified of carnivals (and I’m going to go out on a limb and assume clowns too) was pretty funny. Iris claims that she wants to go along with the idea and have a carnival because it will amuse the children, but that somehow seems odd. I would imagine that most devout people then were rather suspicious of carnivals. I have a feeling that she just enjoyed the idea of tormenting Justin really. Either way Samson and Jonesy manage to be polite and vaguely convincing in their appreciation of Brother Justin, and succeed in getting a decent payment for the event. Iris is so deliciously mean when she wakes Justin up to his ‘surprise’ and waxes poetical about how wonderful the carnival will be for the children. Justin gets fairly lyrical too, sternly claiming that she’s ‘gathered them together in a place called Armageddon’.

Sofie was really surprised by the sight of the carnival, which isn’t odd. She also seemed to be experiencing a lot of anguish though, probably because she realised the futility of her attempt to escape from it. Her awareness of the carnival is accompanied by incredibly jaunty music, which soon takes a creepy turn when she’s presented with yet another vision of Apollonia. The vision leads her to Justin rather than to the carnies, and she gets to glimpse his mysterious tattoo. I didn’t really understand why Sofie was still there, after all the evidence pointing to Hawkins being right. Justin even presents her with an opportunity to kill him by handing her a blade and baring his neck to her, ostensibly to cut a loose thread. I think that this wasn’t supposed to indicate a lack of self-preservation, he just wanted her to torment herself with the fact that she had the opportunity to kill him and didn’t.

Samson’s rant about martyrdom was absolutely amazing, because he’s right. The idea that killing yourself for an idea is better than living and effecting change is a bad one. This topic was discussed in the third season of Supernatural- Dean finally acknowledged that the Winchester men seem to have an addiction to boldly laying down their life, and he heartbreakingly (and entirely hypocritically) forbade Sam from following his lead. I think it’s pretty easy to understand where the (W)incest analysis of Supernatural comes from- Dean essentially does what the noble lover of many tragic tales does- he gives away his life, and soul, to save the person he loves most in the world. It’s just that this person is his brother, who seems equally fucked up, enough that he’s eager to do the same thing if necessary, especially since his girlfriend died and he has pretty much noone else in his life. Anyway, in terms of Carnivale, Samson compares Hawkins to Jesus and John the Baptist amongst others, and demands an explanation as to why Jesus couldn’t just come down from Heaven and spit in people’s eyes. Samson would write the most awesome Bible fanfiction ever.

Hawkins seems pretty concerned about Sofie being left with Justin, explicitly worrying about her being in his house, harking back to all the ‘every prophet in her house’ references. Everyone is suddenly really nice to Hawkins- especially Rita Sue who is honestly thankful on Jonesy’s behalf. I thought that everyone would be rushing at him demanding that he heal small ailments, but they’re all actually really decent. Lilah is still very bitter about everything, but not even Burleigh wants to join in her rebellion anymore.

The interaction between Rita Sue and Lilah in the show is interesting. Rita Sue doesn’t seem to like Lilah all the much since she’s such a scheming bitch, and Rita Sue is pretty loyal to Samson. However they seem to need each other because they simply need decent female companionship. As a result they tend to be bitchy and rude to each other half of the time but not even need to forgive each other the next time they want to gossip. I love the fact that they can switch from gossiping about unimportant details to discussing murder in the blink of an eye (and I’m glad that Catalina’s disappearance at least got a brief mention in one of their discussions, it definitely wouldn’t have on The West Wing).

Samson, and others, repeat that Sofie is ‘one of them’, she’s a member of the Carnivale troupe and therefore she’s savvy and good. Justin also seems to be reinforcing this idea by telling her that she can’t leave her past behind, but unbeknownst to him her past actually has other connotations which relate to him. I don’t really like this fatalistic attitude, and it was over-emphasised a whole lot in the last episode. Justin’s attempt to get Sofie to come over to the dark side seemed to mostly consist of just exhibiting his black eyes and demonic nature. She holds out against these lures and tells him to go to hell, to which he oh-so-wittily replies “I’m bringing it here!”. I get a little bored when I can predict half of the dialogue of an episode. Sofie gets dumped somewhere by Stroud, and has to put up with visions of Apollonia laughing chillingly at her predicament.

Samson points out that people flock to Justin basically because he offers them pretty words, which I think is a fair analysis, an argues that people ought to flock to Hawkins instead because he’s the real deal. I definitely think that a lot of Carnivale can be taken as an attack on organised religion and a warning to distrust it, whilst not denying the importance of individual faith. I feel that Samson must have spent way too much time with Hawkins however because he comes up with an utterly awful plan. The first part involves getting everyone to come over to their side by providing a better religious option than Justin by performing miraculous feats of healing for them. This wasn’t an awful plan I suppose, but luring people over to your sect seems like the kind of thing that would take a little time. The second part of the plan was to strap Justin into the Ferris wheel so that Hawkins could suck his life force dry and use it for the impressive healing. Getting Justin into the Ferris wheel would provide a problem anyway. I think that the show was fairly inconsistent in terms of whether or not Hawkins can control whose life force he sucks out to channel into the person he heals, but if he was able to completely control it he wouldn’t have needed to send Libby away when he healed Jonesy. It can be argued that Hawkins has learnt to control that better over time, and that in this case he will mostly be draining Justin’s life force, but if he accidentally kills someone else that’s just an unavoidable accident since Justin’s death is the most important thing. Anyway, it just seems like an excessively lame way to kill the Antichrist, and therefore immediately looks unlikely to work.

At least Hawkins picks up on some of the flaws and seems rather sceptical. Samson’s immediate response is to assure Hawkins that they wouldn’t get blamed for Justin’s death. I love that this was uppermost in his mind, but actually it is a reasonably important thing to consider since New Canaan’s full of Justin fanatics who would probably be very happy to kill them all if they suspected them of trying to harm Justin. Even if Hawkins doesn’t care about dying for the cause he ought to spare a thought for the others.

Jonesy and Libby start having a serious discussion about their relationship which seems a bit weird under the circumstances. They’re both pretty sweet, especially when Jonesy gets excessively happy about the fact that he can tell what’s on Libby’s mind. She demands an assurance that he’s not still after Sofie, which he gives, but he doesn’t ask her to promise the same thing which I find a little weird especially after all of Libby’s waffling along the lines of “oh, I just can’t go on feeling like this…”. Basically now that Libby has a nice, strong husband it’s unthinkable that she could be attracted to a woman apparently.

Iris’ wistful claim that she ‘thought we were children of God’ suggests that initially she really did think that her and Justin’s actions were for the good and that she came to realise that they weren’t later on. She claims that she wishes she made better decisions, as well she might after all the murdering she’s been doing. She also states that her sins are beyond remorse or redemption, which I’m pretty certain isn’t consistent with Christian theology. Then she adds, ‘I’m going to hell, and if I’m very lucky my brother will be waiting for me with an embrace’, which I’m taking as evidence that she went along with Justin for as long as she did simply because she loves him so much, and that she’s pretty fucked up with all the murder and incest even if she started to feel bad about it.

Samson pops by the house to see Iris, and picks up a generous $250, and seems to have purposely brought the ‘freakiest’ carnies. He may have done so to impress her but I would love to think that he did it at her request because she wanted to torment Justin as much as possible. Iris continues to simper that the carnival is for the children, to which Justin merely raises his eyebrow. I reckon that he’s aware that she’s trying to annoy him, but it also seems hypocritical for her to want to entertain the children since not long ago she was happy to set a load of orphans on fire. Stroud pops up, and he and Samson face off again- Stroud saying ‘I’ll be damned!’ which is probably true. I also liked his repetition of the phrase ‘on the road’ because he used it in almost exactly the same way as Sal in On The Road, which I’m still feeling a lot of love for. Justin, when discussing the Ferris wheel, states that his sister ‘has a dread fear of heights’. With pretty talk like that I’d feel happy to let him be in charge even if he is evil, especially since it reminded me The Princess Bride‘s Dread Pirate Roberts.

I’m not entirely sure what Justin was planning to do with Sofie, perhaps to use her as a bargaining chip. Jonesy and Hawkins certainly don’t seem overly concerned with Sofie’s plight, but then again they really can’t focus on her since they have to think about the bigger picture. I love that Hawkins now has the authority to shout at Jonesy and Samson without them getting pissed off at him! Apollonia (if it really is her) reveals Sofie’s conception to her- Apollonia was really pretty when she was younger but that isn’t the main point, Sofie finally learns that Justin is her father; the man who raped her mother. So Sofie is revealed to be the (or perhaps a) prophet, and Apollonia turns into another, black-eyed, Sofie who taunts the actual Sofie (there was a similar but better scene in a third season episode of Supernatural called ‘Dream A Little Dream Of Me’ which was utterly fantastic). This seemed like a pretty good representation of a split personality- with both good and evil versions of Sofie present on the screen. If Sofie does indeed have an evil side which she mostly repressed for a long time, as I posited about her father, it would go a long way to explaining a lot of her bitchiness.

I loved that Rita Sue had no qualms about admitting that she was in the wrong, and concedes that Hawkins is definitely one of their own. She also cracked me up by relating Felix’s attempt to have their show somehow at the New Canaan carnival- he thought that getting Rita Sue and Libby to wear long johns under their clothes and calling it the Dance of Salome would somehow make it acceptable. One has to admire perseverance. Samson gave Rita Sue all of the $250 that Iris paid them, which just doesn’t seem right. It’s very kind of him to help her out, and the Dreifus family probably should be reimbursed for not being able to do their act, but he could do so without handing over basically everything that’s in the kitty. I think it was just so the writers could over-emphasise the point that certain people are ‘one of our [Carnivale's] own’ and should therefore be considered as practically family and taken care of.

I liked that Hawkins recalled Sofie’s words about waking the ‘sleepwalkers’ from their dreary lives in boring towns, and it serves to make her stint as a Christian seem more bizarre. She clearly was proper carnie folk! Hawkins gets all psyched up for the (very bad) plan, and Justin also seems very enthusiastic. He decides that he must flesh out whatever the carnival’s plan for him is and heads off to do so. I liked that Iris and Samson managed to get rid of all the gunmen who follow Justin around mostly by just speaking to his pride and suggesting that he might be afraid of more armed invalids. Justin drags Iris onto the Ferris wheel with him, I suppose to use as insurance, thinking that people are unlikely to hurt her. Perhaps this explains why Iris has a fear of heights in the same way that Justin has had nightmares about Ferris wheels since childhood, they somehow knew that this would happen (it wouldn’t be that unlikely since they both have Avataric blood). Perhaps Justin developed a morbid fascination with carnivals, and that’s why he became obsessed with Apollonia in the first place. Justin gets very verbose and pompous which tends to impress people, so I loved Ruthie’s simple response to him, ‘what a prick’ she murmurs in disgust.

Hawkins has a complete disregard for showmanship- he turns up in his usual dirty clothes and instead of allowing the fancy introduction he demands that everyone shut up and turn off the music. He then straightforwardly demands information about who is suffering from what. It seems ridiculous that it would be this easy to kill Justin since he’s something more than a run of the mill human. Justin seems to become afflicted with whatever Hawkins heals, which never seemed to happen before- although Hawkins healing anyone usually makes Justin ill so perhaps different rules apply. Jonesy recklessly breaks the wheel himself this time, and cheerfully smirks up at Justin- it seems a tad unfair to the other riders! I understand that they’re basically collateral damage, but I don’t see why Justin couldn’t have been goaded into taking the night’s inaugural turn on the wheel solo (or just with Iris) so as not to put others in danger. Justin manages to stop the wheel however, and Samson’s “oh shit!” face is priceless.

Hawkins finally gets around to healing Norman which is a remarkably good idea, since he probably would have a lot of useful information. Hawkins really ought to have done it earlier though, because Justin bursts into the tent and starts running about killing people. I’m not entirely sure why he went on this murderous rampage, but I suppose evil creatures don’t really need an excuse for it. Finally Hawkins and Brother Justin end up in the field that they’ve both been experiencing dreams and visions of for so long, and it turns out that it comes complete with a creepy scarecrow! It really reminded me of ‘Scarecrow’ (the early Supernatural episodes had incredibly lame titles, but they got a lot better in season two and three when they started baldly ripping off song, album and movie titles) and I want to rewatch all of Supernatural so much if I ever get time. Hawkins disguises himself as the scarecrow (mightily fast in fact), and really embodies everything that horror movies are made of- in fact the sight of Nick Stahl’s head bedecked with a straw hat was freaky enough.

Justin’s tattoo finally turns out to have a use- it deflects Hawkins’ magical knife. However Management’s information and all the tree visions prove their use, and Hawkins is able to mortally wound Justin by plunging the knife into the exact spot (Justin’s arboreal heel if you will). It turns out that Justin also bleeds blue, so it must be a characteristic of all avatars. I’m puzzled by the fact that noone ever seems to have noticed it or commented on it, especially as Hawkins seems like the type of chap to get stabbed and battered up fairly frequently. I suppose it could have been a change that happened only when their powers began to fully manifest, or even just since the previous avatars died, but I still think someone ought to have noticed blue blood at some point.

I didn’t find Stroud’s singing particularly offensive (unlike his evil whistling), but I was glad when Jonesy burst in and beat him up, I did say that Stroud ought to take more care when hanging around his kidnapping victims. Jonesy finally gets to come to Sofie’s rescue and be the hero for her that he always wanted to be, but it’s too late now since he’s married to Libby. In fact it’s definitely too late because apparently Sofie’s evil now and she shoots Jonesy! That was a pretty awesome and unexpected conclusion to that arc, especially in the face of all that ‘one of us’ jibber-jabber. I’m certain that Jonesy’s not dead though, he’s one of those characters (like Wesley in Angel) who is alive until proven dead in triplicate because they have an uncanny ability to survive being burnt alive or having their throat slit and not receiving medical or mystical attention for a good long while. Poor Libby felt properly abandoned though when Jonesy didn’t show up, but at least her and Rita Sue were finally being nice to each other.

Hawkins didn’t die either which was excellent. Instead of feeling for his pulse Samson just stuck a mirror in his face and was jubilant when he saw Hawkins’ breath misting the glass. He may not have been a martyr but he’s certainly treated like one- being hoisted up on everyone’s shoulders and left stretched out in a darkened trailer. I wasn’t sure at that point if Justin was supposed to be dead or not since I thought that I could see him breathing… In any case the whole thing seemed a little fruitless when you consider the history of these avatars- they’re always replaced by a new version to fight the same fight over and over again. Due to the historical setting of the show the audience is aware that the Usher isn’t going to bring about literal Armageddon, but what the Usher and the Omega are leading to is the end of days which ushered in the horrific “Age of Reason”, beginning with the explosion of the atom bomb. At the end of the finale Sofie drains the life of the all-important cornfield and restores Justin to life. Sofie apparently has completely gone over to the dark side at this point, and it’s a stark contrast to her claim that if she ever met her father she’d cut him dead.

Dammit all, it’s just such an unsatisfactory ending and I really wish the show had had an opportunity to continue and explore everything that it hinted at. I’m pretty certain that I’m being incorrect in referring to Justin as ‘the Antichrist’ since that must be Sofie’s role as she’s the Omega, but he seems like such a caricature of the Antichrist, and so frustratingly little is known about the role of the Omega. I really wish that that could have been explored more, and there was so much possible depth to be plumbed in terms of the complicated relationships between Sofie, Iris and Justin- as well as the now incredibly doomed love affair between Sofie and Hawkins. I suppose there’s always the slim hope that Carnivale will come back in another format and these things will be answered and explored, so I’m glad that Daniel Knauf hasn’t given too much away. A few years ago I would have been desperate for cannon titbits, but these days with the Buffy comics, Serenity getting made and that -verse also continuing successfully in comics and the long after the fact X-Files movie (still refraining!) who knows, other than a psychic like Sofie, what Carnivale treats might be in my future? Here’s hoping!

At the end of August…

In bookmark, miss thropist, tv kicks on August 31, 2008 at 7:40 pm

Since another month is fading into that strange and distant land called the past, I declare it time for another book round-up post! Woo, and a mighty hoo.

I’ll start with The Screwtape Letters (although not really, as you’ll see). Let me preface this by pointing out two things: I absolutely adore The Chronicles of Narnia, and I have a deep and abiding distrust of religion. Add to that the fact that I actually rather enjoyed The Screwtape Letters and you have a situation which appears a little contradictory. I feel like a sort of Narnia apologist (in both senses of the word) sometimes, because whilst I can see (and indeed saw as a child too) the Christian symbolism and clear religious message which is both implicit and explicit in the series, it does little to dull my pleasure in reading the books again and again. I suppose it’s partly because Lewis’ portrayal of Aslan-as-Christ represents a very specific (and almost odd) version of ‘muscular’ Christianity which doesn’t necessarily call up all of the things which I normally associate with religion/Christianity, simply because its somewhat out of the ordinary. Mostly though I think that although Lewis obviously became a devout Christian in later life, he was influenced by his long period of, if not quite agnosticism, indifference. He treats Christian theology as he treats other mythologies (Greek and Mesopotamian, for example)- something full of beautiful ideas and images which are ripe for the plundering when creating a fantastic and fantastical world.

I have far more problem with the blatant racism and lack of religious tolerance in the books, especially The Horse and his Boy and The Last Battle. The sexism actually isn’t as rife as you’d expect (although a clear distinction is made between male and female roles especially in the earlier books), but something that does really irk me is the random unexplained dismissal of Susan in The Last Battle. It’s declared that she’s no longer a friend of Narnia because she likes nylons and lipstick, and whilst this snarkiness is kind of likable (especially when you’re a solemn six year old) it doesn’t really seem fair to her. Susan could be a slightly annoying character (and she’s been even more castrated in the screen adaptations) but she wasn’t by any means portrayed as a bad person. I think that if Lewis wanted to narrow the number of these ‘friends’ down to the magical number seven he could have at least had the decency to include a scene in which Susan rejected Narnia rather than just shoehorning the point in. Perhaps she also ought to have been given a chance to redeem herself too, after all Edmund and Eustace are both given that opportunity and their crimes seem worse than developing a taste for make-up (although that certainly would have made an interesting sub-plot).

All in all I do still really enjoy the series (The Magician’s Nephew and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader are special favourites), which is why I had an urge to investigate some of Lewis’ other writing. The Screwtape Letters, letters from a senior demon to a junior one giving advice on how to secure a man’s soul, seemed like a good place to start. It’s a fun, satirical read- and Lewis created a really interesting ‘Lowerarchy’ of Hell, as well as elucidating the existence of ‘The Enemy’ outside of linear time. There’s a lot of wonderful detail- I loved Screwtape detailing how the friction that exists between people who live together and end up grating on each other’s nerves constantly can be taken advantage of. I feel almost guilty for reading it “wrong” however, giggling delightedly at Screwtape’s tale of dragging a man in the British Library away from potential religious salvation by making him focus on his grumbling stomach. I also like that Lewis stuck to the idea of having demons (or often an individual demon) scrabbling for an individual’s soul, rather than giving in to some Apocalyptic vision of people en masse being corrupted incredibly simply (although Screwtape does suggest that this could be an achievable aim).

The book does contain some important points which I broadly agree with too. Firstly it mocks religious people who focus on the wrong things- on being disgusted by the irreligious nature of others, for example. That’s a point I can get behind. Secondly it points to the dangers of over-subscribing the Historical Point of View, and basically the consequences of trying to destroy the concept of morality. Thirdly, the really bitter tirade against the stupidity and problems of the world (most prominently contained in ‘Screwtape Proposes a Toast’ but also evident in the letters itself) is brilliant. Lewis eloquently rails against the way political ideology and religion are misused, and his rant about how the term ‘democracy’ is used incorrectly, and could in fact be abused to perhaps bring about the demise of human excellence, is truly fantastic. Screwtape’s parody, ‘If they were the right sort of chaps they’d be like me. They’ve no business being different. It’s undemocratic’ and the argument about intelligent pupils being fettered by the ‘democratic’ education system read like they could have come straight out of Atlas Shrugged. In fact since The Screwtape Letters is essentially a monologue advocating a viewpoint that I don’t wholeheartedly agree with makes me think that they might have more on common than the surface, and the mere fact that I enjoyed them both, suggests.

The next book I read, Wide Sargasso Sea (which I’m going to attempt to discuss without recourse to words with ‘post’ prefixes) was also a choice inspired by a book that I’d loved as a child. I now feel that I may need to re-read Jane Eyre because I want to closely look at the portrayal of Bertha (beyond ‘crazy’). I find that re-examining childhood favourites can be a bit of a double edged sword. On the one hand I’m always intrigued by whatever insights I can glean, but sometimes these can be uncomfortable. For example, I found the suggestion that Alice in Wonderland was filled with drug references delightful and fun, but the idea that it was inspired by a paedophilic obsession seemed somewhat less pleasant. So whilst I was eager to read Wide Sargasso Sea I was also really hoping that it didn’t trash the original work too much. I love Jane Eyre as a romantic tale (and of course I adore the tempestuous Mr Rochester), but I also love it as a story about a strong female character surviving against the odds, having the courage of her convictions and not allowing any of the men in her life to control her.

I’m glad that Wide Sargasso Sea doesn’t detract from that, in fact it doesn’t really deal with Jane at all. Although it paints Rochester in a somewhat negative light, the book isn’t unfair to him- the main point is the sorrow caused by a lack of understanding. What Wide Sargasso Sea does is turn ‘Bertha’ (i.e. Antoinette Cosway) into a sympathetic, but also deeply troubled, composite character instead of just a caricature. This isn’t done with a dislike of Jane Eyre or Charlotte Brontë in mind, it’s merely addressing a perennial problem- the presentation of a one-sided view. I don’t think that Wide Sargasso Sea ought to be seen as an outright prequel to Jane Eyre, as others have pointed out the timelines don’t actually accurately meet up but I don’t think that that’s particularly important. Personally I just don’t think that Rhys intended Wide Sargasso Sea as a straight-up prequel, it’s a reimagining of the life of ‘Bertha’, and as such it’s a the tragic tale of a woman. That woman could have been the deranged one in Mr Rochester’s attic, but I don’t think that’s the most interesting part of the story- in fact it’s probably the least important. I only really had one gripe with this book in the end, it was too short.

I said I was swearing off stories told in the first person, but I think I’m going to have to retract that because On The Road was awesome. I was feeling a bit wary about reading it after my disappointment with The Catcher in the Rye (they’re somehow tied together in my head), but I loved pretty much every second of it. Obviously the character of Dean Moriarty is a big draw, so brilliant that he achieved legendary status for Sal before they even met (thanks to his amusing letters). I was a little bit in love, along with Sal, with this hyperbolic, bullshitting, constantly sweaty maniac who apparently split his youth equally between the pool hall, prison and the library. The story wasn’t quite what I expected- yes they do spend quite a lot of time actually on the road, but not in the way that I envisaged. I thought that it really was a road book and that most of it would involve Dean and Sal’s roadtrip(s). Whilst that does become a large part of the story, these trips come in varied forms (the first consists of Sal hitchhiking solo) and form a chain of journeys which are interrupted by periods of semi-settling in various cities. I think I had misconceptions about the drug use in On The Road too. Yes, drugs are certainly there, but that’s just how they’re treated- as something which happened to exist, not as something to be glorified excessively.

Although Dean is this wonderful, vibrant character he’s also a bit of a cunt. You can completely appreciate why he is, but I think that in many ways Sal is actually a much more interesting character- he’s not merely passionate but compassionate too. The narrative style is excellent, switching between relatively straightforward descriptions (which somehow manage to sound frantic most of the time even when they’re about the most banal things) and reality filtered through beautiful, poetic language which casually tosses in literary and philosophical references. Maybe it’s because of Sal’s compassionate nature that he becomes so obsessed with Dean, there’s this brilliant moment in the book when he realises that he’s let slip something terrible: that he thinks about him. Dean fascinates him; fills his thoughts. It’s not a one-sided thing, they have a real friendship and often it’s Dean who makes plans for them or turns up on Sal’s door step (indeed he’s really shocked when the tables are finally turned and Sal appears at his door in the middle of the night). However, Dean is filled with a burning passion for just about everything, and although Sal shares this to an extent (or perhaps he just attempts to?) he is somehow more grounded.

I don’t think that I need to point out the barely submerged homoerotic subtext of this book. What makes the book even more interesting for me however is that it is loosely autobiographical. I don’t think that Kerouac fell into the trap of just writing his own life (possibly since he was rebelling so hard against that idea), and this isn’t just a series of amusing anecdotes. It’s a full-fledged, compelling novel. It just so happens that he created a narrator with a voice not unlike his own (and really, who doesn’t?) and, like everyone else, he wrote what he knew. In this case that was mostly Neal Cassady (but also Allen Ginsberg, William S Burroughs and so on). It’s the kind of thing that makes me never want to attempt to publish fiction, because like Brennan in Bones or Jack in Desolation Angels (detailing Cassady’s unexpected visit on the day that the advance copies of On The Road arrived) you’d eventually have to face those people you used as your inspiration, and just have to hope that you could look them in the eye.

My copy included possibly the best and most useful introduction I’ve ever read (although I didn’t read it until after finishing the main text of course). It included excerpts from some of Cassady’s letters, and you can understand why Kerouac was so delighted with him. He had this fresh (and incredibly funny) writing style, which Kerouac either shared or emulated to an extent. I can completely understand why Kerouac shifted from trying to invent characters and situations to mould his idea of a ‘road book’ around, here was a wonderful character complete with plenty of hilarious happenings ripe for the plucking. On The Road definitely encapsulates something very different to (the also enjoyable) The Great Gatsby. Fitzgerald’s writing belongs to a completely different world and time, and whilst The Great Gatsby is full of jazz and liquor it seems really stilted compared to the novels of the Beat generation. I can understand why Kerouac was rather dismissive of writers like ‘Fitz’ and Hemingway.

I’ve always liked the word ‘beat’, it’s one of those wonderful words that conjures up a whole host of associations. It can mean: literally to hit or strike, to completely batter (or beat up), to punish, to defeat, to have been defeated, the rhythm of music, to tap out that rhythm, the flapping of wings, to be better than, to throb, a moment of time, someone’s usual section, to retreat… etc. One word which I never directly associated with the word ‘beat’ however, was beatific. Kerouac imbued his idea of Beat with this joyous, religious concept. This is why one should probably beware of religious types (and can we please all take a minute to enjoy the fact that the Great American Novel was written by not only a Catholic but the child of French-Canadian immigrants whose first language wasn’t English?), they’ll sneak God in whenever they find an opening. Here, with Dean as the holy man and later holy ‘goof’, it does work well however.

Some commentators have complained about the racial sentimentality expressed in the book, but it actually didn’t annoy me that much. I took it as a depiction of Sal (and Dean’s) loneliness, and longing to belong to something larger. I felt that most of the time this sentimentalism was a little tongue in cheek. What I did have a problem with was the fact that the novel was a little too comprehensible. I know that that sounds like an insane criticism, but it’s just that the book often seemed to be threatening to go off onto completely mad tangents, but then never quite achieved it. I think that if Kerouac had been allowed to publish the book that he really wanted to (i.e. madder, with the characters displaying their proper real life names and the sexual relationship between ‘Carlo’ (Allen Ginsberg) and ‘Dean’ (Neal Cassady) being explicit) it could have been even more brilliant.

I hear that there’s to be a film adaptation (although I think that this is once more in the safe “one day” way, rather than “to be released in 2009!”), and I have to say I’m very dubious. Whilst a screen version could perhaps capture the characters and their interaction as well as the energy of the book, much of what I truly loved was Sal’s introspection which I really doubt that a movie could properly show. Instead of a straight adaptation I think that most fans of the book can honestly enjoy something which was in part inspired by it and self-consciously borrows from it (occasionallyeven with the sexual tension between the ‘brother’ characters). Yes I am talking about Supernatural. Alright the characters’ respective ages are reversed, but there’s still Dean being beautiful, sex-obsessed and constantly hungry- followed by his descent into self-destruction. There’s still Sam hero-worshiping Dean, occasionally being a pissy bitch but mostly just radiating love and compassion. There’s still a gorgeous car which is basically the third character (certainly in the beginning of the show), although there’s a few moments of hitchhiking or Sam renting weird ugly cars too. I wouldn’t be too surprised if someone out there has done the maths, but I’d bet that an analysis of the show would find that minus time spent in motels, the Impala or engaged in fights the Winchester brothers actually split their time pretty equally between playing pool in bars, being intimidated by (or impersonating) officers of the law/prisoners/prison guards and researching (mostly in libraries).

Even though On The Road left me with a desire to immerse myself in Supernatural I plowed on with reading instead (after all lugging my laptop to work is too much effort, and anyway I’m worried that if I re-watch season one it’ll start feeling dirtybadwrong to be perving on baby Jared Padalecki).

The next book which I read (and enjoyed) was Camus’ The Stranger (I’d still rather listen to The Lovecats than Killing an Arab though). I have a vague recollection of reading… something or other by Camus for one of those interminable theory courses, but I’d never read any of his fiction. The Stranger (or The Outsider) is a short but interesting book, following the narrator, Mersault, from the point of his mother’s death. I found Mersault to be a fairly likable character, he doesn’t quite know how to properly interact with people yet he’s honest and pleasant. He’s not emotionless about the death of his mother, he just isn’t a wailing mess either. However his honesty and stoicism are later used against him when he’s in court after killing a man ‘because of the sun’. Instead of being tried for the murder, he’s basically punished for the crime of being terrible enough to place his mother in a home (where he seems to have genuinely thought she’d be happier) and for not showing appropriate sadness at her funeral. The judge and others are also appalled by Mersault’s lack of remorse for the murder, and for shooting the body after death, but as he points out, do these apparently terrible things actually matter? They don’t have an effect on the main outcome: Mersault killed the man.

My copy is a more recent ‘American’ translation of the French novella. I understand what Ward means when he says that Camus was influenced by the American style (especially Hemingway’s), and that short, stacatto sentences suit said story (as alliteration always applies à Anne apparently). I can also see that, especially for an opening sentence, ‘Maman died today’ and ‘Mother died today’ have slightly different resonances (although I do think that replacing ‘Maman’ with something like ‘Momma’ would be an acceptable alternative). However I really do think that the point can be stretched too far, although slightly different translations of the same sentence or paragraph can create subtly different meanings in the end (as long as they are translated reasonably well) they will convey the same idea. I certainly wouldn’t argue against the point that American and British English are different (as are other regional variations) since I seem to spend half my time translating back and forth between the two, so of course translations done by a Brit and an American would end up being somewhat different. So too would translations done by people of different ages though, or those from disparate regions within the same country. If you want an incredibly precise understanding of what the author intended to say there’s really no alternative to reading the work in the original language, especially as there are bound to be concepts which have no direct translation.

I do believe that I mentioned Hemingway somewhere in that. How fortuitous. The Old Man and the Sea was the first Hemingway I’ve ever read, and I have to say that I wasn’t overly impressed. Maybe it’s partly because the title reminded me of a brilliant short story by Daphne du Maurier called ‘The Old Man’ which I’d have preferred to re-read instead. I don’t think that The Old Man and the Sea is a bad book, and it does actually have flashes of entertaining brilliance, it’s just that if I’m in the mood to read a detailed account of fishing I’d much rather read Coming Up For Air. I also found the random Spanish interjections to be incredibly annoying. I don’t need it to be pointed out to me that a Cuban fisherman thinks in Spanish, that he thinks of ‘the sea’ as ‘la mer’ and ‘bone’ as ‘hueso’ rather than as their English names. Either write the whole thing in Spanish or shut up. To be fair I did find the distinction between thinking of the sea as la mer and el mer vaguely interesting, and it gives a neat little example of concepts which can’t be translated well into English. I didn’t particularly dislike Hemingway’s style the way that a lot of people (including Jack Kerouac) have, neither was I particularly enamored with it though. I’m willing to give him another try and am quite interested in reading For Whom The Bell Tolls because I have a special place in my heart for anthing pertaining to the Spanish Civil War. If it’s dull I’m going to be very unimpressed however.

I was honestly surprised by how much I enjoyed The Jane Austen Book Club since I wasn’t all that impressed with the film. Most of the book was written in the first person plural which was a little jarring to start with especially since the narrator wasn’t identified. Somehow it did work though, and gives the reader a sense of being intimately placed at the meetings along with all these characters. The characters in the book are much better than in the movie- they’re more interesting, older and (wonderfully!) much more realistic. Instead of just being annoying, they’re annoyed by each other all the time- aware of, and mostly forgiving, each other’s faults and quirks the way that real friends do. The character whom I found most irritating in the film, Bernadette, got on the other characters’ nerves all the time, yet she did have some honestly shining moments. I really liked the fact that everyone was more likable (and Grigg was instantly more acceptable) when everyone was slightly fuzzy and drunk, I think it’s a fairly realistic portrayal of much social interaction!

There was certainly more in-depth analysis of Austen’s work in the book than the screen adaptation, although I could always go for more. The parallels between Fowler’s and Austen’s characters weren’t drawn so explicitly (or perhaps not so crudely), and when they were it was often pointed out self-consciously by the characters, but not in a way that beat the reader over the head with the point. There were some truly wonderful observations that just wouldn’t have translated well on film, such as the tiny paranoia that Bernadette could be an alien in the wake of the Northanger Abbey discussion. That being said I do think that the film did include a couple of good scenes that weren’t in the book- such as pushing Prudie’s almost-affair with her (gorgeous) student, especially because her blurring of reality and fantasy echoed her mother’s lies to her, and Grigg’s gothic decorations for the Northanger Abbey discussion.

It is clearly a ‘pomo’ novel, but not in a way that’s jarring or unpleasant (it takes care not to upset the sensibilities of its characters as much as anyone else). It’s kind of hard to understand how a novel which is mostly about six other (relatively similar) novels works, and I doubt that it would be all that interesting to someone who doesn’t already love Austen. It’s hard to explain what’s so good about Austen’s writing, especially if people already have preconceived notions that she mostly wrote about dancing and houses. Certainly she did write great romances, but I think what I really appreciate about her is her creation of strong, interesting characters who tend to play breathtaking verbal tennis, as well as her creation of ridiculous, bumbling characters who fail to understand what’s happening around them and get satirised so completely but often so subtly that it can easily be missed. Austen’s wry style is wonderful, and can really leave you guessing as to her actual meaning. Mansfield Park is an odd one too, I really enjoy it but it’s hard to put my finger on why. On the surface it’s a fairly stuffy, moralising tale about a Puritanical heroine winning out against the rest, but truly it is so much more. Maybe I just love it for the ridiculous characterisation of the aunts and Mary Crawford’s sarcasm.

I wasn’t aware that Karen Jay Fowler was also a science-fiction writer, but it does certainly make sense. I need to read more sci-fi written by women, I think I’m going to end up re-reading some Ursula le Guin stuff… Fowler included a list of questions from the perspective of the six main characters at the end of the book, some of which are a little dull but some of which are truly brilliant, for example Allegra “asks”,

“In The Jane Austen Book Club, I take two falls and visit two hospitals. Did you stop to wonder how a woman who supports herself making jewelery affords health insurance? Do you think we will ever have universal health coverage in this country?”

Not only does this raise an interesting point (setting aside the irritating use of the phrase ‘this country’) it points to how ready we are to suspend our belief for the sake of the plot. Being alerted to this oversight doesn’t make me like the book any less, but it does make me like the author more. She also included the responses of various people (including Austen’s family) to the novels, many of these were interesting but often, frustratingly, included only a glib phrase or amusing comment about a small point rather than a real commentary. At least it’s provided me with a long, long list if I feel like reading more on Jane (and indeed her Janes).

The next book that I read, Dune, was rather different to the previous six, although there is of course room for a tenuous segue since Fowler is indeed a writer of science-fiction too. What united these first six books I read post-Atlas Shrugged was that they were all very easy to read, my eyes were gleefully skipping along the page as I devoured the material. Most of them I read very quickly, the last three in a day each (squished in around working and living). Dune wasn’t really the same, it’s not the kind of book that you can absorb quickly all at once. It’s a wonderfully crafted story and certainly a brilliant work of science fiction (even I, who has never seen a Star Wars movie can see where Lucas stole some of his ideas), but to me it has that slightly draining association that most sci-fi has for me. If I close my eyes and think of Dune or The Day of the Triffids I see drab, rusty colours, whereas if I think of fantasy I either see something bright and vibrant or glowing hints amidst darkness.

Dune seems that it might falls into that annoying trap of science-fiction right from the beginning, creating an interesting world but not providing enough explanation to avoid confusing all but the most alert and avid reader. This could easily be worsened by the fact that at the beginning of the novel the Atreides and their retinue are in the process of leaving their home world of Caladan for the mysterious planet Arrakis. However Herbert somehow gives suficient detail to give an understandable explanation of these circumstances (and much more), whilst maintaining a sense of mystery as well as dropping some subtle hints and clues of what’s to come along the way. I was gratified to find that when I read through the appendices and glossary I actually had a good understanding of everything. I have to admit that I was cheating a little since I have already seen the original film. It’s a wonderful, confusing mess though and doesn’t necessarily provide the clearest path to understanding the novel of the same name.

The book provides some very interesting ideas about politics and ecology, as well as incorporating elements from various religious and mythological sources to construct its own unique belief system. The idea of the Bene Gesserit breeding program is chilling but enthralling, as is their use of the Missionaria Protectiva to manipulate people’s religious beliefs to fit their purpose whenever it may be useful. I do find the idea that the majority of people are too stupid to, for example, even posit a connection between the spice and the worms a little ridiculous I have to say. Some of Paul’s (and Jessica’s) apparently “amazing” knowledge and insight is shown to be a careful construction. Paul and Jessica constantly take advantage of their knowledge and abilities to almost ‘dupe’ people, including their friends and allies.

Due to their training and experiences Jessica, Paul and Alia (as well as other characters to greater and lesser extents) tend to not show or explore their emotions. I don’t consider this to be a flaw since it makes sense within the context, however it can make them difficult to identify with and care about all that much. So whilst it is certainly a very interesting, inventive story it doesn’t necessarily have the resonance that it could have. I’m interested to read the next book in the series, and if I enjoy that I’ll aim to carry on.

I don’t have an extremely big problem with the depiction of women in this book and Jessica, Chani, Harra and Alia are all certainly portrayed positively (and Irulan is to an extent too). Even Paul is considered to be so powerful because he embraces his feminine side in a way that other men cannot. The use of Bene Gesserit women as brood mares of the state isn’t treated as an acceptable or desirable thing (Paul is repulsed by it), it’s an illustration of the tactics that these high-powered groups are prepared to use. However I could have happily done without the dull gender norms; men take and women give and blah blah blah. Also if there’s going to be a cliché evil Baron with a taste for pretty young boys (including Paul who is, unbeknownst to him, actually his grandson- because what’s sci-fi without some wacky space incest?), I think there ought to some positive representation/s of homosexuality too. If I’m going to insist on reading books written by men between the 1920s and 1960s I probably shouldn’t complain too much though.

The book that I’m currently reading, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, is shockingly modern in contrast having been written in 1982 and published two years later. It’s the first book by Milan Kundera I’ve read because I’m terribly behind the times and I hardly ever read best sellers/’modern classics’ (that aren’t by authors that I already adore anyway) unless the book happens to be pressed into my hand, or comes highly recommended. I’ve also got the excuse that it was actually published two years before my birth in this case, so I can’t really have been expected to have been paying attention.

I have to say that I almost gave up on this book after the first page (which is something I very rarely do, in fact I don’t think that I’ve ever actually done it, I almost always pursue a book to the end unless it happens to be Adam Bede). The first thing that bothered me was the Nietzsche reference in the very first sentence. I don’t have a problem with Nietzsche, but university has equipped me with a healthy distrust of people who are overly-fond of quoting him, and starting a novel with the idea of eternal return seemed beyond pretentious. The second thing that irritated me was the ambigous tone in the statement,

“We need take no more note of it than of a war between two African kindgdoms in the fourteenth century, a war that altered nothing in the destiny of the world, even if a hundred thousand blacks perished in excrutiating torment.”

I’m glad that I stuck with the book though because I’ve actually been really enjoying it, and although I’ve been eyeing it suspiciously I haven’t seen any evidence of racism. Not only does it tell an interesting story in an inventive way (jumping around in terms of point of view and the timeline) it uses some techniques which I really adore. The use of dream sequences is powerful, and the breaking of the fourth wall (if the phrase can appropriately be applied to novels?) is playful but also allows some serious topics to be discussed. I find Kundera’s asides about language interesting, particularly his comparison of ‘compassion’ in Romance languages (and English) with the subtly different meaning that it has in Slavic and Germanic tongues. I also like the frank, and yet somehow sweet, examination of the sex lives of his characters.

Although I am enjoying it, I do sometimes find it to be a little patronising and know-it-all. I often get irritated with books that purport to tell me philosophical ‘facts’. Kundera also uses techniques that I find common in DH Lawrence, but they’re somehow more irritating here- perhaps it’s because Lawrence has a more whimsical style? For example, it’s fairly common for Lawrence to make a statement such as ‘He loved the grass’ (although probably somewhat more eloquently) in a way that suggests that the character loved the grass in general and always. This will then be followed by a lengthy explanation of how the character loved the grass in that moment fully and extremely, and is fairly likely to be contradicted a few chapters later when said character realises that he actually hates the grass for convoluted reasons that relate to his mother. I don’t usually mind the way that Lawrence presents contradictory statements in the form of absolutes because he makes clear that the characters feel these things to honestly be absolutes at that time, and may not even be aware of the existence of any contradiction. I think that that’s an accurate portrayal of something that real people do. However when Kundera does a similar thing it doesn’t quite work, perhaps because he does seem to be dealing with philosophical absolutes, and also because he mocks his characters a little too much.

I am certainly enjoying the book very much, and am quite certain that this bowler hat thang is a reference to Magritte. And a sign that I need one.

Com, Com my lady

In bookmark, comical, miss thropist, tv kicks on August 5, 2008 at 9:29 pm

I am an avid Whedon fan, I could totally write a lengthy essay about Buffy (oh wait I already did). So don’t be surprised if this goes over the word limit. Just pat me on the head and steadfastly ignore my ramblings if you wish.

I’m a little blown away by how much I’m loving the Buffy comics, and so glad that I gave them a try. I’m now completely up to date (finished episode 16 the other day) and whilst I would obviously prefer to be watching the stories play out in a TV show I think that the comics are an excellent substitute. The tone and dialogue of the show translate better than I could have expected, and the comic medium also has some important advantages- there’s no issues with casting and there’s no budgetary constraints which frees the story possibilities up considerably.

I like the artwork, especially the brilliant covers. The artists haven’t aimed for photorealism but nonetheless they’ve managed to make the comic book versions of the characters look an awful lot like their live action counterparts. I think that comic-Buffy resembles SMG less than (most of) the other characters look like their respective actors, but then again I think she has a relatively difficult face to draw. The women’s bodies are great, I hadn’t really thought of it until I read someone’s praise on one of the letters pages, but it certainly would have annoyed me if they were drawn as unrealistic giant-breasted caricatures. I like that they made Buffy a little bustier though (back to the old days!), although canonically she hasn’t been stuffing herself on pasta in Italy as many people assumed (reviving a storyline more than 5 years later is a cruel way to Joss fanon). The only character whose representations I’d consistently quibble with are Faith’s, I just don’t think that she’s been drawn that well, although by no means awfully. Having said that, some of the Faith-centric cover art is amazing, I especially loved the Buffy Faith the Vampire Slayer cover for episode 6 (even though she didn’t really look like Eliza Dushku there), and the cover for episode 9 was simply gorgeous.

It also means that Xander’s lost weight, and he looks hot! (I loved that they had him make a reference to getting fat as well.) Him and Renee were incredibly cute together too. Xander is one of those characters who I think ought to get a bit more love, and so I really liked the way that Renee became all geeky when she was crushing on him (although I think that developing an interest in drywalling was taking it a little too far). This exchange was especially cute and I could completely imagine it being uttered on the show:

Renee: You could take me out.
Xander: You want me to assassinate you?

I like that Xander gets to be (relatively) cool now. I also always love it when language is played with (something that Buffy has always done well). There’s an especially brilliant visual pun at one point, involving Buffy literally getting attacked by the church!

The “Great Muppety Odin, I miss the sex” line made me laugh, and I’m sure that I’ll be quoting it far too much in the future. Although I can understand why some people felt that it sounded like more of a Xander (or possibly even Andrew or Anya?) line than something that Buffy would say, I didn’t think it was incredibly out of character, especially for someone equally comfortable making references to Molly Ringwald and Samuel Beckett. I suppose it was also conceived as a potential hint towards a Buffy/Xander relationship (especially with Buffy’s Xander-centric dreamscene) but if so, boy, was than an excellent piece of misdirection! I have always liked the fact that Buffy is such an incredibly human and relatable (super)hero, yes she has all these epic battles and massive issues to deal with- but she’s also dealing with her loneliness, and the simple pain of a lack of human (not only sexual) contact.

I feel a little weird about Warren being back. Of course it’s nice to have references to (and appearances from) various old characters and plots from the show to keep the continuity alive, and as I said there’s no worries about whether an actor is available or concerns about how to depict a skinless villain convincingly. Willow’s season six storyline involving her addiction to magic and eventual spiralling into evil triggered by Tara’s death at the hands of Warren (just after their reconciliation) was unpopular with some fans but I liked it (in the sense that it makes me sniffley). Many people (including Amber Benson) took issue with the idea of killing off Tara, and felt that it was perhaps a “punishment” (or at least could be interpreted as one) for their lesbian relationship. I think that an examination of Buffy, and indeed basically any of Whedon’s work, shows that he likes his characters as miserable as possible most of the time- they’re hardly ever allowed to be happy for long. I don’t believe that the Buffy writers intended for Tara’s death to be read as a punishment in any way, and yes the character was sacrificed for the sake of the story and that is difficult for people who are big fans of the character, but that doesn’t make the writers bad people. The character of Tara was treated just the same as any other character on the show essentially, and I don’t see why that ought to be a cause for outcry. (I really liked a letter written along these lines that was published in the ‘Slaying the Critics’ section, which cheekily referred to Tara as ‘whatsherface’.)

Having Warren come back seems to cheapen Willow’s journey, and gives her an easy redemption. It doesn’t undo all the suffering she underwent and the fact that she attempted to take a human life, but it makes her not really a killer. (Whedon has attempted to backtrack with this issue for a different reason, in season seven The First can take on the appearance of anyone who has died, and appears in the guise of Warren. In response to this being pointed out Whedon has said that Warren was technically dead for a moment before Amy revived him. Even if this story is stuck to, and it’s one that has only been invented to fill a plot hole which accompanies several other similar ones involving The First who could/couldn’t/could touch people and things, it still makes Willow’s murder seem attempted rather than actual. Since within the Buffy universe it’s relatively easy for people to come back from the dead if the storyline demands it I would have preferred it if Warren had been killed by Willow as he had seemed to be on the show, and come back in some other nefarious way (with or without Amy’s help).

Also I think that the idea of vengeance is an important one. Obviously the way in which Willow attempted to exact justice was wrong, it was still emotionally satisfying for the viewer to see her flay Warren alive; he attempted to shoot Buffy (and indeed almost killed her) and did kill Tara. In Carnivale there was a moment when Dora May’s killer was spared being shot by Samson (due to mere luck), and Samson (and Jonesy) argue against betraying their code and killing this man outright since according to their traditions he has to be given a chance. One can understand both this viewpoint and that expressed coldly by Dora May’s mother, she just wants to watch this man die. When Samson goes to the bar and chats relatively pleasantly with this man (although mostly just pumping him for information) I didn’t feel shock or sympathy for the guy when Samson pulled out his gun and shot him point blank. Sometimes you just feel like a character deserves to die.

I don’t support the death penalty, but within a work of fiction something like that is a satisfying resolution. There’s a wonderful moment in a West Wing episode called’ Take This Sabbath Day’ in which the President is trying to decide whether or not to commute the sentence of a man who has been sentenced to death in slightly questionable circumstances, where he doesn’t really have any grounds on which to commute other than the fact that he doesn’t like the death penalty. There’s this brilliant exchange between President Bartlet and Charlie which I just love- Bartlet asks him what he’d want to happen if and when the guy who shot Charlie’s mother (leaving him to raise his little sister alone) is caught, since she was a police officer , and killing a police officer is a capital crime. Charlie calmly starts by saying “I wouldn’t want to see him executed Mr President-”, and Bartlet nods, seemingly accepting that this is the “normal” response of someone with their lefty politics to the situation, and then Charlie continues “I’d wanna do it myself”. Bartlet just gives him this look and quietly agrees, because hell yes it doesn’t matter what your political or philosophical bent is, if someone killed somebody you love, you wouldn’t shrink from the opportunity to, for example, flay them alive.

As Toby says, several seasons later in ‘Game On’, albeit about a different situation:

“Yes you’d want to see him put to death. You’d want to be cruel and unusual, which is why it’s probably a good idea fathers of murder victims don’t have legal rights in these situations.”

(I do personally think that ‘Take This Sabbath Day’ isn’t the most amazing episode, and it gets rather farcical when Father Cavanaugh points out that Bartlet had a priest, a rabbi and a Quaker sent to him, but I love that little exchange between Charlie and the President. And also any part of the episode which has Stockard Channing in.)

I believe that I may have been talking about Buffy at some point before that little digression? Let me try to get back on track…

Although it’s a bit silly, I loved that Dawn became a giant. It’s assumed that it’s because she had sex with her college boyfriend who is a thricewise(Great Muppety Odin, what is that?), but it eventually transpires that he’s cursed her for cheating on him with his roommate. I liked the fact that Dawn losing her virginity was this teenage-y, melodramtic big deal, but without the truly melodramtic saga of something like Buffy losing her virginity to Angel. I think a nice balance is struck between the fact that Dawn’s just a normal teenage girl and has to deal with typical problems, but that she also has a totally weird existence and these problems don’t necessarily manifest in the expected way. She’s currently actually a centaur, which I thought was also awesome (although I’m not sure that she would be craving hay, I suppose it depends on where the internal organs are exactly). Poor Dawn probably has an excessive amount of problems, but I couldn’t help laughing at Willow’s (good-natured) mocking of her small breasts.

I feel a little bit weird about the extent of the still very existent Buffy/Dawn issues. I don’t expect them to get on perfectly and have a trouble-free relationship, but I felt that they had been dealt with to some extent in the season six finale and in season seven. I know that Dawn couldn’t help but feel abandoned when Buffy was focusing much more on the potential slayers (and I’m sure that would have continued with Buffy’s focus on the new slayers), but I think that Dawn did understand the situation, and now that she’s off at university I would think that it would be less of an issue. Dawn did have an excellent relationship with Willow (and Tara) in the past, but I think it’s a little far for her to tell Buffy that she thinks of Willow as more of a mother to her than Buffy. Buffy certainly wasn’t a perfect guardian, but she was dealing with extreme mitigating circumstances (being yanked out of heaven by her well-intentioned friends, for one) and Willow certainly wasn’t the best surrogate mother- she endangered Dawn’s life due to her addiction to magic, and Buffy had to actually order Willow to stay away from Dawn at one point.

I just didn’t think that the issues between Buffy and Dawn would have remained quite so prominent. Neither did I think that the issues that Buffy and Faith have about each other were so entirely unresolved. Buffy is quick to assume that Faith has gone evil again, and Faith is so consumed by jealously towards Buffy that she’s driven to violence. I suppose that I partly expect all these problems to be resolved because they kind of felt that they were, the show finished airing five years ago so I’m used to the idea that everything is done and dusted. It’s a little weird to climb back in, and see them in action again. I suppose essentially what I’m saying is that these characters and their stories could have been left alone, I’m glad that they weren’t and there’s definitely still more to be done with them, but it isn’t like with Firefly being cancelled, the story isn’t half-told. It already did come to a satisfactory conclusion. Also I suppose that I expect them to have moved on with their issues at least five years, whereas for the characters less time may have passed (although I expect not much less since Dawn is a university student, then again Joss is notoriously bad at maths). I can understand Buffy and Faith being suspicious of each other, but I do feel that the comic pushed that a little far, after their easy camaraderie in season seven, but I suppose it is plausible given that they haven’t necessarily spent much time together since then, Faith’s probably been getting very bitter in Cleveland and they had to put their differences aside and attempt to get on during season seven for the sake of the world.

I’m really glad that there was a Faith-centric mini-arc, she’s one of my favourite Buffy characters, even when not portrayed by the luscious Eliza Dushku. The interaction between Faith and Giles was brilliant, I’m eager for more! Giles asking Faith to kill a rogue Slayer, given his knowledge of her troubled history, was incredibly cold. However, I think that it was definitely in character, and I’m glad that he was honest with her about his own dark past, and the fact that he’s killed a human (or humans?) before. Faith having to do an English accent was priceless, even though I was only reading it. That’s something that I would have loved to have seen (and more importantly heard) on screen, maybe Eliza doing an English accent isn’t out of the realm of possibility on Dollhouse? She will be basically playing a new character every week after all! I loved Faith’s initial confusion over the phrase ‘bum a fag’ especially because I spend a lot of time translating my British English into understandable words for Americans and Canadians. (In a surprise move the representatives of North America have declared that their favourite Bringlish slang is in fact ‘get proper fucked’ not ‘bum a fag’. I’m shocked and intrigued.) All of the Anglicisms and references to British pop culture were delightful, I liked the mentions of Amy Winehouse and The Clash especially.

I also liked the way that Genevieve felt that she’d developed a friendship with Faith based on a short conversation and the gifting of a cigarette, it’s so typical of drunken British girls in reality. I certainly don’t buy that Faith would like either The Stone Roses or The Arctic Monkeys (cos, ew), but I can console myself with the fact that she was acting. There were so many adorable little moments within this storyline in fact, I loved Faith’s (probably intentional) momentary misunderstanding of ‘cunning’ and Giles’ Yellow Submarine jumper, for example. I also liked the fact that Faith chose ‘Hope’ as her pseudonym, it seemed like a subtle reference to ‘Faith, Hope & Trick’, the episode which introduced her.

Genevieve was a fucking insane and terrifying villain. Her obsession with Buffy was disturbing (and a little reminiscent of Spike’s). She definitely seems like the kind of girl who might be obsessed with a Tampax model. Just sayin’. I loved the way that she petulantly screeched about the fact that she let Faith share her tub (as if this was the worst part about Faith’s ‘betrayal’), and it just sounded dirty (as well as reminded me of Sugar Rush). I’m glad that Buffy was angry at Giles for pulling this crap with Faith without telling her what was going on, although Buffy shutting Giles out does feel like a rehashing of their old issues I think in this case (as opposed to her problems with Dawn and Faith) it completely makes sense. Buffy would find it hard to trust Giles anyway, and using Faith without telling her would definitely make these flare up (especially because of the competitive nature of Buffy and Faith’s relationship). Nonetheless I can also understand Giles’ wish to not let Buffy know about all of this, he hasn’t lost his desire to protect her.

It was during episode 9 (in which the Faith mini-arc reached it’s conclusion) and episode 10 that I started screeching “AWESOME!” at the screen. Although I had been enjoying it before it was at this point, for me, that everything really came together. I couldn’t stop hitting the ‘next’ button until the end of episode 16 from then on out, even though I really should have been going to sleep! Episode 10 began brilliantly, it had this awesome Daniel Craig fake out, which turned out to be part of a game of ‘anywhere but here’, a great reference to season two. It was even better when it turned out that Buffy was playing in an attempt to distract her from flying magically with Willow. I liked that the fantasies continued to crop out throughout the episode too.

As I’ve said, I did really like Tara as a character and thought that her death was sad. I don’t subscribe to the view that that ruined Buffy however. That being said, I am glad that there was at least a little animosity between Buffy and Kennedy, and that Willow felt awkward discussing the Kennedy situation with Buffy. I didn’t hate Kennedy and do think that Willow ought to be happy, however I did think that Kennedy could be incredibly annoying at times and was definitely a little young for Willow. I don’t think that their relationship ought to be painted as perfect.

There’s been some awesome character development for Willow so far already. The way that she breaks down and admits that she feels that she betrayed Tara by ‘choosing’ Buffy over Tara was incredibly sad. It’s one of those illogical things that you can really empathise with- because Willow pushed for the option of bringing Buffy back from the dead (believing Buffy to be in a hell dimension when in actuality she was at peace) inadvertently started a chain of events in which Warren attempted to shoot Buffy but instead ended up killing Tara. Willow didn’t consciously choose Buffy over Tara of course, but you can understand her thinking, and it isn’t inconceivable to think that she was in part being punished for bringing Buffy back when she shouldn’t have.

I loved that Buffy is now an international jewel thief! It was hilarious, but in a way that’s actually a little disturbing when you actually think about it (like the ease with which Dagny kills towards the end of Atlas Shrugged). I really liked Willow’s little summation that the government has gotten angry at the Slayers for going after their possessions, it was insightful. The image of Communist Buffy isn’t a new one, there’s a brilliant shot of her equipped with a hammer and sickle leading a worker’s revolt in ‘Anne’, but it remains a fun one.

Willow trying to explain to Buffy that Slayers aren’t above the law is eerily similar to a lecture that Buffy once gave Faith. I like that the comic is dabbling with moral ambiguity, and the (moral) implications of creating a load of preternaturally strong women (the idea of the Slayer support group was brilliant and pricelessly funny). It’s nice to see the character development of Buffy, she’s had to become a lot harder and stronger- she’s retained a lot of her General characteristics, and doesn’t seem to have too many qualms about the loss of human life anymore (just like how she said that if she had to do it again, she would sacrifice Dawn to save the world). It’s sad, but believable, that she would have lost her idealism. Some of the other Slayers go obviously too far, utilising their power for personal gain- and the fact that they’re using guns is a nice call back to Andrew’s earlier lecture about Slayers never using guns (and definitely fits with the entirety of the show).

Reading the letters for the competition to be immortalised in the comics were alternately heartwarming and heartbreaking. The winning letter was written by a woman called Robin’s husband, he wrote about her battle with schizophrenia and how Buffy had provided something solid and allowed her to grasp onto reality for a long time. Instead of just creating a minor character, the plot of the comic was directly influenced by the idea of schizophrenia and a wonderful, composite character was created. The idea of being in a position to do that kind of blows my mind, to be so touched by somebody’s life and be able to do something so wonderful and so unique for them. It was strange for me to read some of those letters, to hear about people who have a so much more tangible connection with the series that I adore than I do.

Some of the other letters have also seemed deeply significant to me, I especially loved one which argued that in Buffy heroism was mostly about choice, as this was part of the thrust of an essay I wrote last year. Theorising isn’t restricted to the letters section, Buffy herself makes some excellent points. She argues that saving the world amounts to saving the status quo, and that apocalypses (if that is indeed the correct plural form) are an attempt at change. What she did, to empower hundreds of women by unlocking their Slayer potentiality, was a sort of synthesis, a way for the world to change and move forward. I think that’s a brilliant description of the conclusion of the show.

I loved the sneaky little ‘jokes’ about both Buffy and Xander being gay, although I’m still deeply annoyed by the “gay me up” scene in ‘First Date’ which I felt was in incredibly poor taste. Buffy’s little speech about the fact that Satsu’s in love with her was great, and I especially loved, “The fact that knowing that someone you know, someone really cool, feels that way about me, it makes me less…a little bit less lonely”. Satsu, Renee and Aiko are all great characters, the Slayers in the comics are all much, much more likable than the potentials in the TV series (and Vi is certainly less annoying now), it’s helped that I don’t have to hear any appalling attempts at accents. I like that they tend to geek out about Buffy though, she is legend after all. I thought that the relationship between Satsu and Buffy was really sweet and a little sad, and then suddenly there was sex! And that was too awesome! Buffy has sex with another woman, in cannon. How is it possible that I missed this until now? Although apparently Sarah Michelle Gellar also missed the memo… I enjoyed it even more when I remembered everyone freaking out about the apparent Buffy/Xander turn the comics seemed to be taking. This is also a way better twist than The Immortal storyline! I don’t feel that this was a marketing ploy at all, it’s just an excellent story.

The relationship between Dracula and Xander however, although it had some excellent subtext, was a bit too ridiculous for me. Apparently it references another Dracula-centric comic also penned by Drew Goddard (by the by I probably could have been convinced to go see Cloverfield if I’d known that he was invovled) so perhaps I’d appreciate it more if I’d actually read that. Season eight is actually making me consider purchasing the Buffy Omnibus, so perhaps I will. The idea that Xander and Dracula were penpals is hilarious, but I also felt that it was a bit too unbelievable. I adored Andrew’s recap of the situation however, but then again I adore pretty much anything Andrew does. Primo examples here include taking dramamine before letting Willow fly him, and letting slip that in his fantasies he’d be called ‘Miss’.

Possibly Andrew’s best line was “My giant-sized teammate is fighting a mechanized version of herself on the streets of Downtown Tokyo…I’ve been preparing for this moment my whole life!”. The Giant-Dawn-as-Godzilla parody was done really well, I found it funny and I’ve never even seen a Godzilla movie. It was pretty much impossible not to laugh. (As was the earlier moment involving Dawn sleeping in a barn. Swift isn’t the only one who can make giants funny.) I loved the deadpan reaction to Giant Dawn battling the Giant Dawn Robot too, “Well, there’s something you don’t see every day.”

The comics also make explicit visual references to Dark Phoenix with Willow, just as the show did.

Aiko’s death was sad, and Buffy having to remain calm and demand that someone help her to cut down Aiko’s body was reminiscent of the last hanged girl she had to cut down. Buffy’s not exactly had an easy life. Way more emotional though was Renee’s death. I cannot belive that Joss would do that! (Although I so can of course.) I feel so bad for Xander, he’s had to deal with Anya dying already, and now this? Dracula being supportive was nice, but also rather weird. I can accept that Dracula might grant Xander (and perhaps even all the Scoobies amnesty) but I think that whole storyline was a little jarring.

But back to the sexin’. I simply adored Buffy’s slightly lame girl crushes on Judi Dench and Eleanor Roosevelt. However, I didn’t really like the slight awkwardness between Buffy and Willow (especially Willow demanding details from Satsu, she claims that she’s always wanted to know what Buffy was like in bed). It would be one thing if the awkwardness was one sided, perhaps like when Willow first came out to Buffy, but they’re both being weird. The worst thing is that Willow doesn’t seem to acknowledge that she’s being weird, she seems to think that it’s normal to be overly bright and assume that Buffy would now want to try it on with Willow. Buffy never made any such assumption about Willow. It’s not as if Buffy has simply declared “I think I’m kind of gay” and looked expectantly at Willow, she’s had an experience with Satsu, it doesn’t have anything much to do with Willow.

Willow is in fact rather disparaging, calling it Buffy’s “little experiment”. Willow was very annoyed with Tara’s similar suggestion, and with good reason. Fair enough at the point that Tara was saying such a thing they were in a much more serious relationship, but still I consider it to be incredibly rude. Even if Buffy was merely ‘experimenting’ with her sexuality there’s no need to be snide about it, there’s nothing wrong with an individual enjoying casual sex with whoever they want. I also don’t understand why Kennedy would make a similar suggestion, telling Buffy to back off of Willow. I could understand it if she was getting a little worried about it (and there’s been plenty of reasonable jealousy in Buffy: Cordelia telling Willow to back off of Xander for example, or Angel and Spike’s jealousy directed at each other), but she seems to think that it’s normal and acceptable to assume that now that Buffy’s expressed an interest in women she’s going to jump on anyone within reach. There’s no basis for this assumption, unless we’re about to find out that Willow’s actually been in love with Buffy all this time (but just really good at hiding it) which I really hope isn’t about to happen.

I liked the fact that it doesn’t seem as if Buffy and Satsu are going to have a long term relationship (and I idly wonder if Spuffy shippers are finding solace in the B/S initials?). I think that Buffy deserves to have a positive experience like that, normally she has sex with someone and the world unravels a little. She didn’t even actually get to have that with The Immortal, although one of her decoys probably did. Buffy deserves some fun! (At least she gets to enjoy New York, I liked that.)

Episode 16 began an arc which involves a crossover with Fray, a comic series penned by Whedon which is set in a futuristic world following the adventures of the eponymous Slayer. I haven’t read Fray, although thinking about it maybe I ought to now, but I didn’t have any problems with understanding the plot thus far. I liked that she speaks in a type of futuristic English, I suppose it’s a fairly commonly used device, but it had me happily thinking of both Firefly and Cloud Atlas. I’m intruiged to find out who Buffy was getting all dressed up for… is it too much to hope for some Angel and/or Spike drama?

So. Wow that was incredibly long and rambly, quelle surprise. Since I’m on the topic of Monsieur Whedon I might as well allow this snowball effect to continue a little further. I finally watched the unaired pilot for the Animated Buffy series. It was fun enough in its own way but I can understand why it didn’t go into production, it wasn’t particularly brilliant (I prefer the comics so much to it), and it seems a little redundant to go back to season one-style storylines, especially in the face of the brilliant comics. All in all I think I would have enjoyed it if it had been made (despite having a different voice actress for Buffy, and the fact that she’s randomly gone a bit goth) but I’m not particularly irritated that it wasn’t successful, and am glad that the creative energy was instead poured into season eight.

I loved this great article which presents ‘an oral history of Dr Horrible‘, it gives a lot of background information, and the anthropologist in me can’t help being delighted with a title like that. Then there was this wonderful Dollhouse interview which has totally inflamed my voicecrushes on Joss (just close your eyes and imagine him as someone who doesn’t have a ginger beard) and Eliza. She sings! I didn’t know that she could sing. There needs to be singing and English accents in Dollhouse, for the love of all things un/holy (delete as appropriate). On the subject of Dr Horrible and Whedon-related voicecrushes, I adored this little Nathan Fillion interview (the man has a wonderful voice) where he pontificates on Captain Hammer’s abilities.

I kind of love the internet. This thing that we now accept as such a big part of our lives is actually mind-boggling. Someone googled Ayn Rand and Aaron Sorkin and found my waffling! The idea of an unknowable audience is both terrifying and fabulous. Mostly terrifiying, with a side of fabulous. Personally YouTube isn’t something that I’m overly-obsessed with (although I do link to it a fair bit), but I absolutely loved this Digital Ethnography lecture about YouTube. It’s about an hour long, but if you have some time I’d definitely recommend it as it’s really fascinating (although some of the most popular videos make me despair for humanity a bit). I’d be really interested in taking a Digital Ethnography-style course, I think that the anthropology of the internet is an incredibly thought-provoking field. My interest would primarily be in areas such as fanfiction, but it’s so hard to maintain tight boundaries when looking at such topics and with anthropology it’s always hard to demarcate what is and isn’t relevant. I really must look into masters courses when I return, preferably finding something which allows me to write long essays on things which I’m already happy to write about.

Atlast!

In bookmark, miss thropist, tv kicks on July 30, 2008 at 9:51 pm

Atlas Shrugged is over a thousand pages. I don’t have a problem with it being long, but I wish it wasn’t so bloody big, it takes up most of my handbag all by itself!

First off, I like it. More than I thought I would, if I’m honest. Mostly I think that it’s well-written (although there’s the odd sentence that makes me roll my eyes and wish it had been better edited…and the mere fact of the book’s length makes me think that an editor could definitely have been useful) and very thoughtful. It consists of well constructed arguments, and it demands that you think out your objections and counter-arguments carefully rather than going with an vague, intuitive feeling about something. I don’t think that I necessarily agree with Rand’s arguments, but that doesn’t matter. It’s nice to just read and consider well argued theory. I do feel a little weird about the fact that I’m reading fiction (that isn’t simply an allegory or a satire) that seems to have been explicitly created, at least in part, to promote an ideology but I also know that if that doctrine sat further to the left I’d probably find it a little easier to swallow, so I probably shouldn’t complain about it.

I certainly feel that it’s often less of a defence of selfishness than it thinks it is. Maybe that’s just my personal interpretation because I think that ‘selfishness’ still has a negative gloss to it, in the way that a defence of egotism or self-interest probably wouldn’t to me. Even so, I don’t really buy the idea that these characters are necessarily all that selfish. They’re well rounded composite characters rather than caricatures, which is definitely a good thing, but they’re also just incredibly noble most of the time. They demonstrate time and time again that they subscribe to a higher morality, to certain ideas of what is inherently right- and it doesn’t just happen as a by-product of their selfishness at all.

I’m glad that the novel doesn’t hide from just how American it is, although I would like it to at least acknowledge that this ‘selfishness’ that it lauds is a value (if indeed it is one) which applies uniquely to a very specific context. I think the idea that Capitalism arose in the States as a rejection of the idea of slavery is an interesting one (mentioned as a throwaway comment, but I’d love to see it expanded on), but I’d also like the book to maybe at least touch on America’s history of genocide and slavery.

There at least was a reference to Manhattan being sold by the indigenous people for a small sum in glass beads. I could have done without the ‘stupid savages’ implication. (And anyway, it’s not as if that story is supported by any actual facts).

I think it paints a very skewed version of American history, not only in largely omitting these very obvious points, but also comitting the common sin of completely ignoring the importance of collectivist ideas, and yes even socialist ones, on the early history of the USA.

It does definitely strike a chord with me. It has these beautiful ideals, which I can appreciate even if I don’t necessarily agree with. I started off rolling my eyes a little at the ideas it was presenting. I was thinking “sure, I’d love to go and live in a wood cabin (with wireless) and ignore everyone”, but I didn’t think that the book was going to actually create this awesome enclave (hidden by some hilarious comic book style technology) where the ‘deserters’ could live happily apart from the rest of the world. The plot is doing nothing less than embodying everything wonderful about anarchism, and crucially it isn’t only the (primarily American) individualist strand (embodied by Thoreau) but definitely also contains ideas that resonate with Proudhon’s, Tolstoy’s and even the good parts of syndicalism.

The abject hatred towards Marxism (and indeed the word ‘contradiction’!) expressed in the book makes me a little sad. I don’t think that Rand’s vibrant support of the free market is necessarily entirely at odds with socialism, especially that of a strongly anarchist bent- like Benjamin Tucker’s theories for example. Obviously I can understand Rand’s outrage and disgust at the way she saw ‘Communism’ being implemented in her life time, but I don’t think that that should lead to an outright dismissal of Marx. I think that their theories have some common ground, he too wanted the best of the best! In fact I can imagine Karl Marx as actually fitting in quite well with a lot of her characters (although I don’t think she would have liked Engels very much)…

I definitely have some problems with the way that she writes about women. Dagny is a very strong and likable female character (who clearly looks an awful lot like Felicity Huffman in the Sports Night days, she even dresses like her) but I really hate a lot of her romantic and sexual relationships. Although Rand creates an eloquent defence of pleasure seeking, arguing against allowing sex to be tainted by guilt, I can’t stand the way Dagny is constantly submitting and giving herself to be ‘used’ by her lovers. Sometimes the male characters seem to be submitting too, but it is to passion, rather than to a woman. I find it to be incredibly grating. Also, the most ‘evil’ character book appears to be Dagny’s opposite, Hank’s wife Lilian (I’m not entirely convinced that the ‘Lil-’ name is unintentional either). She’s definitely a despicable person, but I’m not sure that she deserves to be painted as the absolute worst character in the book simply because she’s “not-Dagny”.
Earlier I felt that part of the novel was basically a love story between Francisco and Hank, now it feels more like one between Francisco and John. I held out hope that the free love angle would get pursued, and that there’d be a better orgy than in the Perfume movie (the one in the book was just dandy) in the offing. I also desperately needed some respite from the fact that so many of the main characters were in love with Dagny. I don’t know if this is a brand of Mary Sue-ism, but it’s certainly irritating.

Possibly the most irksome thing about Atlas Shrugged is that it’s based on a very bad analogy, Atlas held up the sky, not the world. It’s just such a glaring error.
Dagny Taggart is an awful, awful name. Who would call their child that? It’s so ugly! Tinky Holloway, however, is an excellent name. Also I think it is possible for a book’s characters to overuse the phrase “I know it”, especially if they insist on constantly doing it grimly.

I like the fact that Dagny sometimes gets to dress up and revel in her femininity, and have that not be separate from her identity as an executive. However, I think that this is slightly tainted by the fact that most of the time she’s wearing a nice dress she ends up in some protracted romantic situation. On the subject of Dagny’s clothing, I absolutely could not take John’s confession of love (andstalking watching over her) seriously, because telling her that he spent the past twelve years watching her from the tunnels below and could sculpt her legs from memory made it sound a lot like he had a fetish for upskirt peeping. That sort of thing can get you fired here you know.

Something that I find kind of jarring (and certainly not just in this book) is that the characters are more wordy than season 7′s speech-happy General Buffy. They often give speeches, and I don’t have a problem with that if they’re supposed to be. A fair bit of the time though, they aren’t. I don’t think it’s reasonable for there to be quite so many multi-page monologues. It’s a common literary device, but I tend to find it incredibly annoying. That, combined with the fact that they all seem to have an amazing ability to recall pretty much anything that anyone has ever said to them and quote it verbatim and the fact that several of the characters have definite Marty-Lou characteristics and are just too perfect kind of encapsulates what worries me about reading a novel which has a politico-philosophical agenda. The characters are sometimes sacrificed to the author’s greater plan and it means that they don’t always ring true.

I don’t want to give the impression that I’m pissing all over the book though. I’m not, at all. I’m still definitely enjoying it. I wouldn’t bother to consider all of this if I wasn’t. I like the way that it lightly picks at the flaws of what it criticises, I especially liked this:

There, he thought, was the final abortion of the creed of collective interdependence, the creed of non-identity, non-property, non-fact: the belief that the moral stature of one is at the mercy of the action of another.

I know that a lot of Marx’s writing that has what I would characterise as a more individualist bent, and focuses more on ideas of freedom might not have surfaced (or if it had then might not have been widely known) when Atlas Shrugged was written (it was first published in 1957). I also found this Popper quote to be appropriate:

Marx tried, and although he erred in his main doctrines, he did not try in vain. He opened and sharpened our eyes in many ways. A return to pre-Marxian social science is inconceivable. All modern writers are indebted to Marx, even if they do not know it. This is especially true of those who disagree with his doctrines.

Now some mere idle curiosity. Firstly, I’m just intrigued as to whether Midas Mulligan ever explains why the Atlantis valley wasn’t on any maps? Did I miss something?

Secondly, does “Piss” Harry King in the Discworld books remind anyone of Hank Rearden a little? Or am I just reaching… He is listed on the television trope page for the self made man (which is interesting because I don’t think that he’s ever been portrayed on television) but I’ll take it as evidence that I’m right.

I’m glad that I read the book in conjunction with (slowly, slowly) watching Carnivale. They’re set to similar backdrops so it was nice to have them both captivating my imagination at the same time. There was an awesome quote from Dolan, which for some reason I can’t find, about him wanting to help Iris to find her brother so that he can gain a larger audience and get richer. It sounded like something that could have come straight out of Atlas Shrugged.

I still haven’t worked out who Francisco reminded me of, and it’s bugging the hell out of me. It was especially strong earlier in the novel when he was in the position of a tempter, luring people to go on strike. Knowing me it’ll probably turn out to be a Whedon or Sorkin character, and the cogs of my brain will probably finally find the answer for me to scream out at an utterly inappropriate moment. C’est la vie. I remember that after watching Dune (which I also still haven’t read) I had an incredibly strong sense that the Fremen’s blue eyes reminded me of… something which I just couldn’t quite grasp. I drove our poor lecturer somewhere round the bend as she listed off lots of possibilities, most of which were obscure references to science fiction films or television shows that I have no knowledge of. When I finally worked out that it was Groo (a fairly minor character from Angel), I don’t think she considered it to have been worth all of that effort.

John’s radio broadcast (apparently around three hours long, which I can well believe- but I didn’t mind the length here since it was conceived of as a speech, and so didn’t feel false) slightly reminded me of a much shorter speech. Wes Mendell’s in the Studio 60 pilot. The first couple of episodes of Studio 60 had me bubbling with excitement, I’m still kind of annoyed at the way it ended up. Here is a link to the clip from the pilot which culminates with said speech (and I’d completely forgotten that Felicity Huffman had a guest spot in the pilot, please she so is Dagny, enough with this Angelina nonsense). I’ll also include this link to the cold open from, uh, ‘The Cold Open’ for no reason other than it makes me laugh.

On the subject of Francisco, which I’m sure that I was discussing at some point, I was immediately convinced that Frank Adams was him as soon as I read the name ‘Frank’. I didn’t have to wait long for that reveal, but Hank’s surprise at something that was so obvious was typical of a lot of the book. Again and again the reader becomes aware of something that a character desperately wants to know or should know, the identity of Eddie Willer’s confidante for example. This had the effect of making me a bit exasperated with Hank, Dagny and Eddie time and time again for being so dense (and for their inevitable gasping when they discover the truth) even when, based on the knowledge available to them, they weren’t actually being intensely stupid. It reminded me of Harry Potter a little, although I don’t think anyone could be quite as dim witted as Harry (or gasp as much as Hermione). Luckily I love the word phrase hyphenate ‘self-immolation’ (and I’d like to point out that I’m the one who came up with the ‘molating Marx thing, and probably plenty of the others even if I can’t remember them… firing Foucault possibly?) otherwise I’d definitely be complaining loudly about its overuse.

I very much loved, in a pretty much unqualified way, Rand’s attacks on Cartesian duality; the split between mind and body.

Personally I feel that there’s never been a proper free-market Capitalism experiment, just as there’s never been a proper Communist one. Maybe it’s because they only really exist as ideal types, and life is a lot more messy, but its certainly (also?) because they haven’t been allowed. Dagny (and the others) look towards an idealised past (where Nat Taggart roamed around) of perfect laissez-faire capitalism. I’m pretty sure that that didn’t exist. The free market has never truly been free, I’ll come back to Benjamin Tucker for example: he argued that the four main monopolies (money, land, tariffs and patents) would need to be broken down first before a truly free market could be set up. We see examples of it all the time, the US government cries that the market ought to be free! Except for pharmaceuticals. Importing cheap Canadian drugs would hurt American producers, and that would be wrong. Repeat ad infinitum with whatever it is this week.

I’m sorry, but I’m coming back to Marx again. I just feel that Rand (and she’s certainly not alone) misinterprets his views on Capitalism. He didn’t hate it. He didn’t want to destroy it. He thought that it was excellent, in a limited way. It unleashed enormous productive power, and allowed for innovation in a way that previous epochs had not. He didn’t provide a moral criticism of Capitalism in his work, and he in fact explicitly argues against trying to bring about the untimely end of Capitalism. He simply believed that Capitalism was beset by inherent contradictions (just like the previous socio-economic systems), and as a result would eventually collapse and give way to a new social system.

Needless to say, he wasn’t exactly right about how it played out. I’d definitely be interested in finding out if Rand ever explicitly discussed her attitude to Marx’s writing. In Atlas Shrugged she doesn’t, but I feel (perhaps wrongly) that some of her criticisms are directed that-a-way. There’s a lot of stuff in Marx’s writing that I think Rand must have agreed with, not least his emphasis on rationality and of course that famous sentence from Theses on Feuerbach, “ The philosophers have only interpreted the world, in various ways; the point is to change it”.

Of course I suppose that her criticisms were actually directed more at the Russian governement then at their (claimed) ideological underpinnings. It’s hard to work out when the novel’s supposed to be set, since it’s futuristic in some senses but also rapidly retreating into the past. Combined with that is the fact that the characters are often looking to an idealised industrial past, which often permeates their world and time, especially as the setting of the railroad (and to a lesser extent the mines) has a distinctly nineteenth century quality to it. In my head I kind of split the difference and seem to be imagining something vaguely 1930s-esque (I suppose I can partly blame this on Carnivale too). I get the impression that Rand was explicitly critiquing Roosevelt’s policies, and I can understand why her ideas would clash with his “make work” philosophy. However, at the same time I can see similarities between his New Deal and the great minds of Atlas Shrugged trying to rebuild the world after its destruction… (Of course it also makes me think of Toby’s revulsion at the idea of including “the era of big government is over” in the speech in the West Wing ep ’He Shall From Time to Time’ in which I don’t think the name “Roosevelt” is ever spoken, but I swear that you can actually see what Toby’s thinking. I love Richard Schiff a little too much.)

Well maybe the real problem with a university education is it creates the desire to identify fleeting similarities and synthesise ideas?

I also felt that the arguments against the ‘mystics of muscle’ seemed to be more of an argument against the Functionalist school of thought than anything else (especially with the organic analogy). I suppose Rand wouldn’t particularly like them, but it felt a little weird in a rant that seemed mostly against altruism and collectivism. I also wondered if the fact that both John and Ragnar raise the issue of income tax as important was construed as an explicit reference to Thoreau. I’m glad that there was a reference to the fact that paper money is assumed to be worth the same as gold, I think people should pay more attention to the fact that the world’s economy is basically held together by a mass delusion. No one’s on the gold standard anymore, and there might very well come a time when you don’t really care how many flimsy pieces of paper you’re holding or how many zeroes are at the the end of the number on the computer screen. Hopefully by then I’ll be back in London with my pumpkin patch and fruit trees though, so I won’t really care.

I would have liked to see religion addressed more. Rand dismisses religion (and I personally don’t have a problem with that), but it wasn’t really dealt with much within the novel, there weren’t really any religious characters. After reading the introduction I’m a tad annoyed that the Father Amadeus character was cut, but I might have had to spend some time trying to work out where his name fits on the awful/awesome axis if he hadn’t been.

Rand belittles the sociological/interpretivist-style criticisms of science. I will freely admit that sometimes these criticisms can be take way too far. I love Bruno Latour, he has an immense and respectful appreciation of science and he acknowledges that there are such things as objective facts. However, he points out that science in the process of occurring isn’t a series of objective facts, and argues that stating this isn’t a rejection of science. I’d also like to add that Rand actually endorses one of those criticisms of science without acknowledging it, she’s disgusted by the idea of state funded science, and that’s something which many of the sociological criticisms of science have highlighted, as well as investigating other ways in which the production of scientific knowledge is effected by other (subtler) factors.

The book definitely contained far too much of an Orientalist attitude, an extreme overuse of the word ‘savage’ and an apparent damning of everything ‘non-American’. I don’t have a problem with the novel’s pro-American sentiment (nor do I have a problem with it in anything penned by Aaron Sorkin), even if I don’t endorse it. I do appreciate passionate feeling like that, and basically anyone who subscribes to the Granny Weatherwax school of philosophy:

“…well, you wouldn’t catch me sayin’ things like “There are two sides to every question,” and “We must respect other people’s beliefs.” You wouldn’t find me just being gen’rally nice in the hope that it’d all turn out right in the end, not if that flame was burning in me like an unforgivin’ sword.”

I know that Rand’s views on race and gender (and other things too of course) are a product of her time. I expect some things to crop up that I dislike but can understand as a result of this. I think it’s just a bit too much though. I have to contend that in some areas she was just a bit of an idiot, and I’d be interested in reading Feminist Interpretations of Ayn Rand, especially Brownmiller’s ‘Ayn Rand: A Traitor to her Own Sex’. I assume that that title is there for shock value, at least to some extent, and that there is some appreciation of Dagny’s character (and indeed Cherryl’s, although it would have been nice to see her develop a bit more before her death). I assume that there’s plenty of criticism of the (relatively?) sexually submissive role that Dagny randomly gets cast in, which I’d definitely be interested to read.

I’ve never understood why someone would think that I would want my cake if I wasn’t going to eat it too. Claiming that one can’t eat one’s cake and have it too at least makes sense.

It’s a good thing that John was the one who started the movement, if people were wandering about asking who Francisco D’Anconia or Ragnar Danneskjold were all the time the book might have been a lot shorter. Certainly it might have taken the government a lot less time to track John down at the end if he didn’t have such a common name. I felt worried that things were going to take a tragic turn when Dagny led them to John, and I’m glad that instead there was a happy, hopeful ending. (And that Dagny wasn’t punished for being a silly, emotional woman.) I felt kind of sad for poor Eddie though. I liked the idea of the torture machine- it was really gruesome (and the idiots torturing Galt almost to the point of death because they were adamant that he had to help them were captivating), the machine itself kind of reminded me of the torture device in The Princess Bride. The idea of trying to torture someone with the sound of their own heartbeat was effective, and it reminded me of the horror that one of Doc Benton’s victims in the Supernatural episode ‘Time is on my Side’ who has a heart rate monitor still attached to him from when he was jogging suffered.

The idea that it’s impossible for the nasty bad guy politicians to step aside at the right time idly made me think of F.W. de Clerk.

I know that it’s silly, but I think I would have liked a bit more science. I know that Ayn Rand wasn’t a scientist. Partly it’s just because the refractor rays made me roll my eyes and laugh out loud. It felt like an episode of Johnny Quest, especially with the whole Shambhala feel to Galt’s Gulch. I would have loved some science geekery (even if it was complete and utter nonsense) to provide a bit more of an explanation to Galt’s super awesome motor, rather than the constant solemn assurance that it was something amazing that would have made the world better, without details to flesh it out and make it sound more realistic.

I think I’ve come round to the idea of Rand the novelist more. When I first started reading I thought that I was reading a novel designed as propaganda of, or at least promotion of, a specific view point. On completion I can say that it does (mostly) feel like a novel. I’ve also become convinced that she wasn’t engaging with philosophical or political theory (other than her own anyway) as much as I thought she would.

Sadly there was no orgy finale. There was a mention of orgies towards the end, but they’re discussed in a very disparaging way. I can at least console myself with the not stated (but clearly implicit assumption) that Hank and Francisco were walking off into the world together. Obviously.

I didn’t clock that Ayn Rand was Russian until I read the biographical information in the reader’s guide. I guess that explains some of her anger a little bit. It makes sense that Rand wasn’t her real name, I think it would be too much of a coincidence if her surname actually was a currency!.I’d kind of had her pegged as a Catholic what with all the emphasis on guilt. I should have paid more attention to The First Wives Club where Brenda explains that she’s half-Catholic, but that its the Jews that really own guilt. Unless that was actually in another book, which is possible.

My brain is addled. Maybe that’s why I think that there should be a cartoon of Atlas’ shrug (as in the item of clothing). That logically seems like one of those things that only sleep-deprivation makes funny.

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