#I like how this one seems to have more of an emphasis on Ann's generation

[mercurygray]

YOU GUYS.

Cancel my appointments and hold my calls, @wgbh is getting a new Forsyte Saga and this cast is STACKED!!!

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Okay, you know how you say that Austen and Gaskell are seen as similar because they both have a similar approach to virtue running through their works? Would you say the same applies to Anne Bronte (the sister I've seen argued to be closest to Austen)? Or is the similarity between them just that they both aim for realism over melodrama and the deeper similarities aren't there? (I haven't read Anne Bronte in years, but the question just came to me and I figured maybe you'd have something to say about it.)

Hi!

This is actually something I have thought about a lot! But I don't have a conclusive answer as of yet.

Anne Brontë seems to be mostly... on a lane of her own? While -or-because she shares things with Austen and Gaskell and her sisters too.

If there's a link between Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, and Tenant, it is the importance of mercy and forgiveness. In Jane Eyre it is the necessity and heroism of radical forgiveness -redemption depends pretty much exclusively on God's power to touch the person and change them. In Wuthering Heights you get the picture of life without mercy or forgiveness, and the intensity of misery and destruction it causes; mercy, forgiveness and metanoia are seen vaguely as anything from personal choice to natural development (I don't think Emily is interested in that part, really).

In Tenant these are more to the background, but ultimately necessary. Helen must be forgiven and forgive herself for her bad choice of a husband, Gilbert must be forgiven his youthful pride, anger, and player attitude, in order for there to be a happy ending to the story. But in both cases atonement must happen as a conditio sine qua non to forgiveness. Only God forgives unconditionally, without repentance or atonement; Anne's universalism comes across strongly like this in Arthur's protracted agony. Not even Arthur will be damned, even if it means his spending till the end of time suffering purification.

It is these two things, I think, that approximate her to, and distance her from, Austen and Gaskell. Anne Brontë is concerned with morality in the sense of making good and bad behavior a very important part of her narratives, which is something Charlotte and Emily Brontë are not interested in much, but that is very important to Austen. How each approaches this issue is different, however. Austen builds an ideal of the gentleman/gentlewoman as accomplished forms of humanity, acquired through virtues, and the moral narratives of her stories are explorations of what those virtues mean (sense, constancy, generosity, patience, etc). Anne Brontë, to me, seems more interested in the circumstances that favor or hinder goodness. For her a life of work, a life of connection with the land, are extremely influential factors in a person's inclination to goodness and ability to reform. That's what sets Hattersley apart from a guy like Grimsby. Austen might share some of the idea that London and Bath are corrupting places (notoriously in Mansfield Park) as a general thing, but their relevance to the moral make-up of people is not that significant.

Religion is more explicitly important to Anne that it is for Austen, and in that way she's closer to Gaskell, and both are also universalists, but I feel Gaskell is more agnostic about it. Where Anne is positively convinced that all will be saved one way or another, Gaskell tends to evade the issue to focus more on what a person's religious beliefs do to their moral worldview, and in that way her moral preoccupations are highlighted in this aspect too. Because of this also is that I feel Gaskell has a richer perspective of the communities and the relationships that conform them; Anne tends to have a more atomized perspective, closer to Charlotte and Emily's (this difference likely defined by their respective upbringings and life experiences).

These would be the reasons why I'd ultimately exclude Anne from the tradition-thread I think there is between Austen and Gaskell (emphasis on virtues as framework for ethics and morality, centrality of friendship) but she's also... not that significantly far off? Certainly her good characters are virtuous characters, but I don't think that is the way she understands them. Gilbert's friendships with Helen and Eliza are relevant to the plot and influential to his character, but they seem to exist as preambula to romantic relationships, and other friendships that are present in the text are much more loosely conceived (one wouldn't think of Frederick and Gilbert or even Helen and Milicent as friends in the way Darcy and Bingley or Wentworth and Benwick are).

Ultimately to me it is a case of "sort of there, but not quite". However, as I said at the beginning, I'm not fully convinced, and I welcome argument one way or another wholeheartedly.

P.S.: I do agree that Anne's prose feels close to Austen by its trim-ness (something Gaskell doesn't possess; she's definitely more florid and closer to Charlotte Brontë that way) and that her characters are built in a similarly typical way (they are traced in a sort of impressionist way as types, but closer inspection reveals greater nuance).

[cypheragent]

my issues with Louis Is Healing Now are numerous but the two major ones are as follows:

first of all, being a vampire is supposed to suck. suddenly it feels like it doesn't even suck anymore (the anne rice problem. it's reflected in how nonchalant daniel's vampirism is treated as well). it's a miserable and isolating existence that forces a person to become a cruel, sadistic, evil person as the only way to be happy in it. i can accept louis accepting his vampirism, but my issue is that accepting vampirism needs to imply a decrease in one's morality, which it doesn't really feel like we see. sure, louis was never ethical per say, but i don't have any reason to believe that in embracing his vampirism, he will become more morally and ethically dubious, which i feel is necessary. i don't really think embracing vampirism should be framed as a positive thing, or at least not as entirely positive; instead, it feels framed as a general metaphor for self-acceptance.

the other issue to me is, well. i had a difficult time pinpointing it, and then i remembered a quote from lingua ignota, where she talks about why she decided to write aggressive, unsettling music to cope with the aftermath of abusive relationships, which places an emphasis on feelings like rage and despair. after escaping abuse, she tried reading books on the subject, but felt that they all emphasized "civilized," patriarchal models of healing, with cheap advice like "be nice and get a hobby." louis might as well be following these guidelines for healing: he seems to simply choose happiness on a whim, he's in a pray eat love era, proclaiming rather easily his newfound comfortability with aloneness. if he feels anything in the aftermath of breaking up with armand after 77 years, we certainly wouldn't have any way of guessing it!

and of course, louis ultimately heals from his trauma in the way survivors are almost always told to: by forgiving his abuser. not only forgiving him, but refusing to hold him accountable for, well, anything really. obviously, forgiving one's abuser is an individual choice and one that is genuinely healing for some people. it's also something i always expected would happen in this particular narrative because, well, it was simply building up to this. also louis is literally catholic. that being said, it's presented with a distinct lack of complexity or ambiguity, especially considering, as previously mentioned, louis doesn't hold lestat accountable for the numerous atrocities he committed against him and claudia; most notably, claudia's death. you know who can't forgive lestat? claudia. because she's dead, and lestat participated in that coming to pass. but hey, louis seems to have forgiven lestat for her (even though let's be honest, she would never), so all is well i guess. he feels bad! he cried about it! meanwhile she's dead. she's literally dead.

[switchblufreviews]

Two steps forward, one step back

Gamefreak first dipped its toes in the idea of an open world pokemon with sword and shield, before diving in with both feet for legends arceus. I’ve previously written about how this shift in arceus was largely positive, though the battle system in legends arceus couldn’t hold a candle to full fat pokemon. But finally! Here we have a mainline pokemon game with all of the battling bells and whistles that competitive players have come to know and love, yet for some reason game freak has left behind some of the best and most interesting ideas that they introduced in arceus. In this sense, we’ve gone two steps forward, but one step back. And in a lot of other senses, Gamefreak has failed to make the steps it needs to make. 

Open World:

Committing to an open world with pokemon walking around in the overworld is a huge step forward. No longer does one have to carefully avoid patches of grass lest you be ambushed the millionth Pidgey or Rattata. No longer must you fight an army of Zubats any time you go into a cave or tunnel. You can simply walk around, enjoy watching these creatures in their natural habitat, and only interact with what you want a la carte. 

This emphasis on open world exploration does not come without its drawbacks however. Interesting indoor areas like the power plant, the silph co, or SS anne are completely missing. There are also no puzzles, and very few caves. I was able to go through the entire story of the game only encountering one cave. Victory road in particular is a glaring omission. 

There is not much else to do throughout your 10 to 15 hour romp through the main story besides catch and battle pokemon which brings me to two things that legends arceus did better in this regard: the first is the catching system. The ability to sneak up and throw pokeballs at pokemon without battling was the best part of arceus and it is a shame that it did not make a return for scarlet and violet. The second is that legends arceus had a lot of little side quests and missions to complete whereas this simply does not seem to exist in scarlet and violet as far as I can tell. Pokemon games have always been very sparse in the side quest department, but it is particularly noticeable here due to the open world nature of the game. 

There is, actually, something like a side quest when it comes to catching the four legendaries in this game, and I have to say I hate it. In order to unlock the seal holding each of these ‘mons you need to find 8 stakes on the ground randomly peppered throughout the world map for each of them. I love a good side quest before gaining the right to catch a legendary, but making me mindlessly survey the entire map makes me want to just look up where they are. It simply is not fun. 

As for the main story, you are given three paths: one where you battle eight gyms, one where you battle 8 team star members (this generation’s team rocket) and one where you battle a few giant pokemon. 

The eight gyms all had a pre-gym mini game that was always too easy and boring. People always feel the need to remind you that pokemon is a game made for children, but nowhere is this more glaring than in these mini games. Also, you can't see the inside of each gym and they are not thematically or visually distinct in any way which is normally the best part of a new gym. Lastly, being able to zoom directly from one gym to the other with no events in between was less rewarding than organically reaching them as a milestone in your journey. 

The team star battles were the lowest point of the main story. You get to their base, auto -battle a little bit and then just battle the boss who always uses the same pokemon at the end. Auto battles are exactly what they sound like - you toss your pokemon out and it battles without you doing anything. It’s a nice way to gain some exp or some crafting items, but it’s not fun - it can’t be fun because you’re not doing anything. 

The titans were actually kind of interesting and fun, I just wish you were able to capture the titans during battle. You are able to come back and catch them later, but by the time I found that out I didn’t even bother to do so. This was probably the best part of the main story, but it really highlighted the need for voice acting. Those cutscenes were too static and bland without it. A solid performance by a good actor could’ve really elevated what turned out to be a pretty touching story. 

Battling:

At least since generation 6, Gamefreak has been experimenting with different gameplay “gimmicks,” like mega evolutions, Z moves, and Dynamaxing to shake up the metagame. I am happy to say that this generation’s “tera” mechanic might be the most interesting yet. 

“Teraztalization” gives you the ability to change any pokemon’s type to any type. So you can have a water type Arcanine that laughs in the face of hydro pumps, a water type Palafin that basically gets a free choice band without the drawbacks, or a ghost type Maushold that can’t be flinched with fake out. It is such a flexible mechanic because it can be used offensively, defensively, or for utility. And you can have custom tera types on all 400 pokemon in the national dex, unlike mega evolutions that were only for a select few. 

The endgame consists of raid battles for rare pokemon with rare tera types. These battles range in difficulty with 7 star battles being the most difficult. These pokemon have 30 times their normal health, and can summon a shield that negates almost all of your damage unless you also terrastalize your pokemon. These raids are clearly balanced to be taken by four, and thus it is extremely difficult to solo them, and Gamefreak went out of their way to make the NPC’s that help you in offline mode completely useless. I wish that it would either scale difficulty based on the number of people like, say, monster hunter, or give me the ability to bring four ‘mons myself. Gamefreak clearly thinks this isn’t an issue because you can just hop online and play with randos, but there are millions of literal children playing this game, and fainting in these raid battles has harsh timer penalties. It is simply too difficult to beat some of these 7 star raids unless there are four people who know what they are doing and use a coordinated plan. 

For how much I enjoy the battling in this game, a lot of it is soured by the high barriers to entry to be competitive. Gamefreak simply does not seem willing to relent on this point. There are at least seven things to work on for each pokemon that you want to try on your team: their Individual values, their effort values, their nature, ability, moveset, item, and tera type. They’ve made minor improvements to ameliorate the grind in some of these areas, but none of them go far enough, especially when you are seriously trying to test out several different teams for competitive play. In their mind, the solution seems to be to just try rental teams that other trainers have made. But the issue with this approach is that you can’t change any of the aforementioned parameters in those teams to suit your needs. You can’t even change out any of the pokemon. And even if I’ve gone through the hassle of grinding out those seven things for each of my six pokemon, tweaking simply is much more of a pain than it should be. Say I have a 6 IV modest Flutter mane with 252 EVs in speed and 252 in special attack, but I notice that I don’t quite need all that fire power and I’d rather invest in some bulk to survive a jolly 252 attack chien pao ice spinner with -96%roll at max. Now I need EV reducing berries which can only be obtained through mindlessly looking for shiny objects all over the map, or waiting for the specific berry you need to randomly appear at auction for exorbitant prices. There are a few other ways to get them, but they are just as tedious. 

Or take EV training for just one more example. We have the ability to just chug vitamins to skip this part, but for no good reason Gamefreak decides to make vitamins prohibitively expensive. Grinding out the money for them takes just as long as simply grinding out the EV’s yourself the old school way. I understand not wanting everyone to have perfect ‘mons throughout their playthrough, but the post game should have a way to quickly alter pokemon for competitive testing. 

You may have noticed that I used the word “grind” a lot in this review. Gamefreak did implement one way to skip over a lot of the tedium in their sandwich system. It is regrettable that they spent so much time on this because it is needlessly convoluted. There are hundreds of different sandwiches, ingredients and buffs where this could’ve been a lot more elegant if they either narrowed it down to like ten or twenty sandwiches, or simply did away with the needless tedium in the first place instead of making you go through this boring sandwich mini game. 

My final gripe is with the Technical Machine system in this game. This is another needless step backward from previous games. In previous games, you’d find a move and be able to teach it to as many pokemon as your heart desires. Now they are consumable and craftable. So you have to grind every time you want to teach earthquake to a new ‘mon. I know why they did it - they want to give you something to do with all the pokemon drops, and a reason to keep battling pokemon, but it is just more busy work for someone who is trying to prep for the next VGC regional. 

Performance:

Honestly, the broken graphics and performance are a slap in the face coming from the most profitable franchise the world has ever seen, but that is par for the course with Gamefreak at this point. With all the money in the world you’d think they’d invest in a second team to help them keep churning out games at a high pace, but with better quality the way other franchises like monster hunter and call of duty do. I don’t want to spend a lot of time on the graphics because you can see for yourself how bad they are, but I do want to nitpick a bit about the menus. I once tried to set up a picnic, but instead of just booting me off my ride pokemon and into the picnic, it told me I couldn’t initiate one while riding. After I got off it told me that there wasn’t enough space. Then I moved and it told me that the area was too slanted and the picnic would fall off the table if I did it there. Then I was too close to a person. 

A similar issue happens with your legendary where you can’t seamlessly transition from using it in your party and as a ride pokemon, it’s one or the other. Again, needlessly convoluted. 

Conclusion:

If I didn’t care about pokemon, I wouldn’t waste my time criticizing it so harshly. It is painful to see that pokemon still has so many glaring issues after two decades of releases and more money than God. The open world adds a lot to the game, but there were also a lot of great things that were lost in the transition to an open world, in particular the puzzles and indoor sections. There is an incredible gem of a game hiding somewhere deep in there, but it is rough, unpolished, and in some ways worse than other games that have come before.

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one - part 2

Ok I know that I should use a different gif for each part but I'm not going to. But here's part 2! It's longer than the first part so have fun.

People to thank who are amazing and I owe my whole life to even though I'm probably forgetting someone because I'm the worst: @zinka8 (I CAN FINALLY TAG YOU) @hockeywocs @calgarycanuck @chara-hugs @justjosty anyone who sent in an anon and again I'm forgetting someone so if you helped me with this and I forgot, yell at me.

But here we go! This is about 9k words, and, fun fact, this is also my 5,000th post on this blog, so that's exciting!

Hope you like it!

Read part 1 here!

Series masterlist --------------------------------

New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day

New Year’s Eve is the last day of the Georgian calendar year, marked with celebrations that last well into the next day. Huge parties take place around the world, one of the most notable being the ball dropping in Times Square in New York City, marking the new year for the eastern coast of the United States, televised with Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve hosted by Ryan Seacrest. This special each year includes a packed Times Square, performances, interviews, and general excitement to put whatever happened in the past year behind them. Likewise, in Canada, the CBC has hosted a similar countdown special since 2017, including live music and coverage of festivities in each of the provinces and timezones the country spans.

New Year’s Day is the first day of the Georgian calendar year, again marked with celebrations. In the United States, various parades take place, including the Tournament of Roses Parade in Pasadena, California, or the Mummers Parade in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. In addition, various sporting events take place as well, including the Citrus Bowl in Orlando, Florida, the Outback Bowl in Tampa Bay, Florida, the Rose Bowl Game in Pasadena, California, and the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans, Louisiana, all post-season college football games, and the National Hockey League's outdoor game, the Winter Classic, typical showcasing a major regional rivalry. The day typically includes people already failing at keeping up with their New Year’s resolutions, whatever it was they promised to do every day of the year (such as working out, flossing, getting more sleep) already not going well.

=============

December 27, 2021

Lucy had insisted Anne go with her to the mall to go shopping when she found out that she was going to a New Year’s Eve party with Tyson’s teammates. Once her older sister found out that Anne’s ‘mystery man’ was a professional hockey player, she went practically bat shit trying to figure out more information about the two of them since Anne had yet to tell her anything.

If only she knew there was nothing to tell.

“Come on, what about this?” Lucy asks, holding up a dress. Anne wasn't sure that it would go past her butt, not to mention the open back and the plunging neckline. Lucy had to know that Anne would never, on any occasion, wear a dress like that. It would look good on Lucy, and Lucy would be comfortable in it, but not Anne.

“No,” Anne tells her, continuing to look through the rack for anything that had more fabric to it than what Lucy was offering her. There was nothing wrong with the dresses, really, and Lucy was normally pretty good about picking things out that Anne would actually like, but something about this being a dress for what sort of was, sort of wasn’t a date with a guy she spilled her coffee all over was making her more nervous than she needed to me.

“But it’s for your man. On New Year’s Eve. It doesn’t hurt to look a little sexy,” Lucy begs, making sure to add a little shoulder shimmy at the word ‘sexy’ for emphasis.

‘He’s not my man,’ Anne wanted to say. But she wasn’t about to spill that secret before Lucy even met him. It would be easier to just tell them they broke up by Valentine’s Day. “Tyson wouldn’t want me to wear anything that would make me uncomfortable,” she lets out instead.

Lucy sighs, pulling out dress after dress to show to Anne. “Ok, how about this: what color do you want to wear and how long do you want it to be?” Anne shrugs, not having thought about it in the slightest. “Well what’s Tyson wearing? Are you matching with him?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Annie!” Lucy practically screams the nickname her family decided they were going to call her, a few of the other store patrons turning to glare at Lucy’s outburst. “How do you not know what your boyfriend is wearing to a Colorado Avalanche New Year’s Eve party?”

'Not my boyfriend' she thought. “I don’t dress him. Do you know what Jason is going to wear for every party?”

Rolling her eyes, she holds up another dress that Anne turns down. “Well, since I’ve known my man since we were in diapers, I know his style, and therefore, know what he could potentially wear before I tell him what he’s going to wear.”

Anne lets out a sigh, wandering away from her sister while she continues to go through what seemed to be endless rows of dresses. Part of Anne wished she was like her sister: lucky enough to find a man that she would love forever when she was young, never having to worry about anything. The other part of Anne wished her family wasn’t so annoying about her finding a man, wishing that Sebby didn’t steal her phone and see Tyson’s name, and that their mom hadn’t come down and jumped to conclusions before she had a chance to defend herself.

“Hey,” Lucy comes up to Anne, “Why don’t we grab some food and then try a different store.” Anne nods, Lucy linking her arm in her sisters before taking her out of the store. “Have you met any of Tyson’s teammates before? I mean, you have to mean a lot to him if he’s bringing around the guys he spends the most time with.”

“He’s told me a little bit about all of them, but I haven’t met them yet.”

“You know this is big, then, right?” Lucy says, finding a line at the food court for them to order from.

Even if Lucy hadn’t picked a place that Anne wasn’t too fond of, her words made Anne lose her appetite. As far as she knew, Anne’s family thought they were dating, which they weren’t, while Tyson’s teammates thought they were friends, which they were. That’s what they had agreed to. They just needed to make it to New Year’s Day and then this would all be over.

Lucy keeps talking, rattling off information about Tyson’s teammates that Anne was sure she had found on their Wikipedia pages, Lucy’s ‘top of her class,’ ‘photographic memory’ coming out while Anne stayed silent.

“Look, Anne,” Lucy says once she gets the food she ordered for both of them, “if he likes you enough to bring you around his teammates, that’s a good thing. Think of it like Jason asking me to go to his soccer games when we were freshmen. He wants you to be at something important for him.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Anne shrugs, “I’m worried about bringing him into the belly of the beast the next afternoon.”

“Why, because you’ll be hungover and Ma and Dad haven’t seen you that way yet?” Lucy asks, smiling with her fork between her teeth.

Throwing her head back and groaning, Anne starts, “No. Ideally, we’ll still be drunk and calling you or Matthew to come to pick us up. Remember what Mom was like when I introduced you all to Andy?”

“Well, yeah, it was hate at first sight. And she was right to feel that way, obviously. If you think Tyson is the ‘one,’ then you’ll be fine.”

Anne chokes on the fries she was picking at when Lucy says that. “The ‘one’? Please. I wouldn’t know if he was the ‘one’ at this point. Right now, he’s my ‘plus one' at best.”

Lucy shrugs, a sly smile on her face as the two of them continue to eat in silence.

The two of them venture to another store, Anne not having high hopes in finding a dress, knowing that she was going to have to resort to wearing something old that probably wouldn’t be very ‘New Year’s Eve’ themed, or borrow something from Lucy, who, albeit having great style, definitely didn’t have anything that she would want to wear. Maybe she could call Stephanie or her cousin Lauren and see if they could pity her enough to let her borrow something.

Lucy went to the dress rack, Anne just wandered around the store. At this point, she didn’t even care if she found a dress; a long shirt would be just fine. She was nowhere near her sister or the dresses, but she saw something out of place, a skirt and sleeves peeking out in the middle of pant legs. She picked up the dress, solid black, which would probably fit her like a glove, off the shoulder. A black choker, which she had, and a nice pair of heels would make the dress perfect. And it was even on sale. Someone had probably put it there in order to hide it, but Anne didn’t know that for a fact, so could she really feel bad about wearing it?

She practically ran through the store to find her sister, grabbing her by the arm to the dressing room despite the stack of dresses on Lucy’s arm that were probably going to end up back on the rack or in Lucy’s own closet.

Anne looked at herself in the mirror, excited for the first time for Tyson to see her on New Year’s Eve wearing something like that. The two had been talking nonstop, but Anne had made it clear they were friends and that she wasn’t looking for anything. If something came along, she would know it, and honestly, she didn’t know it with Tyson.

But picturing him seeing her in the dress gave her a glimmer of hope that it was Tyson, even if he wasn’t the ‘one’ like Lucy had been badgering her about earlier.

“Hey, Annie, come on!” Lucy snaps Anne out of her fantasy, banging on the door to show her, “Jason texted me that he and the girls are going to be home in an hour with dinner so you can’t take all day.”

“You really think putting on this dress is going to take an hour?” Anne huffs, opening the door from the dressing room stall.

“Well, it depends on how many dresses you try,” Lucy starts, cutting herself off when she sees her sister in the dress. “Oh, Anne.”

“You like it?” she asks, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. It was a simple dress, knit and insignificant. She had no idea why she was so excited about it.

“I do,” Lucy says, coming up behind Anne and resting her chin on her sister’s shoulder as the two of them admire Anne in the mirror. “And you know who else is going to love it? Tyson.”

Anne took in a deep breath, Lucy rubbing her back between her shoulders before she let her get changed back into her clothes. ‘Tyson was going to love it.’ Anne hoped so.

=============

December 31, 2021

Tyson said he was going to be at Anne’s place at 9:15 to pick her up and drop off stuff at her place to stay over. Since they were going to be together all night, it was easier if Tyson stayed with Anne after the party before needing to drive to Anne’s uncle’s house the next afternoon.

But it was 9:30, and Anne was sitting on her couch, waiting for the boy who was supposed to fake being her boyfriend tomorrow to show up to take her to a party with a bunch of people who had no idea who she was or that this scenario was going to be happening the next day.

How did Anne end up like this? What if he didn’t show up? Why did she let her mom and siblings take over the conversation about her life and let them believe that Tyson was her boyfriend? And why did he agree to it?

Anne gets snapped out of her downward spiral of thoughts by her phone ringing, Tyson calling to hopefully tell her that he was waiting to be let in. “You said you were going to be here at 9:15,” she answers, not letting Tyson say anything.

“Well, traffic,” he explains, “It’s New Year’s Eve and I didn’t want to speed, either, and end up getting pulled over for that. Can you come let me in? It’s cold.”

Anne gets up from her couch, venturing downstairs in the slippers she was keeping on until the last minute. The heels Lucy had let her borrow weren’t uncomfortable, but she wasn’t about to wear them around her apartment building if she didn’t have to. She spots Tyson sitting on the couches in the lobby, going up to him. He was looking down at his phone, but seeing him made her heart race. He had on a white button-down with the top two buttons undone, a black jacket, and black pants on. She goes up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

Tyson looks up, unable to find the words when he sees Anne. He stands up, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Anne sees this and lets out a small laugh. “Are you ok?” she asks, her nerves of seeing him dissipate while he acts like this.

“You’re,” he starts, letting out a breath as he looks her up and down. He shakes his head, a lazy smile on his face. “You’re beautiful.”

Anne laughs, grabbing his bag for him and leading him back upstairs to her apartment. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“You know,” Tyson starts when the two of them get to her door, “pretending to be your boyfriend really isn’t going to be that difficult.”

“Yeah,” Anne scoffs, putting down Tyson’s bag with a thud by the couch, “and if you keep flirting with me like you mean it, then they’ll really believe you.” Anne’s back was turned to Tyson, so she didn’t see the look on his face, him biting his lip at her words that she thought he was just pretending. “You’re staying over for a night, what the hell could you have brought with you?” she asks him.

Tyson clears his throat, still not over Anne’s little dig about him pretending to flirt with her. He’s been flirting with her since they met, has she really not noticed? “Uh, you didn’t tell me how formal or casual this is at your uncle’s so I just packed a few options.”

“Huh, I never pegged you for a fashionista,” Anne teases, putting on her shoes and coat as Tyson orders the Uber to take them to the venue.

“Apparently you’re never going to peg me at all,” Tyson mumbles, not loud enough for Anne to hear.

“Sorry?”

“Uh, the Uber will be here in a few minutes so we should get downstairs,” he tries to save himself.

“But,” Anne says, locking her door and following Tyson back down to the lobby, “You can pretty much wear anything to Uncle Vince’s house as long as it isn’t a Juventus shirt.”

“Juventus?”

“That’s Napoli’s biggest rival. It would be like me wearing, I don’t know,” Anne says as they both get into the car that had pulled up, “a Red Wings or a Wild shirt to something for you guys.”

Tyson can’t help but smile, even though he knows it’s probably meaningless. Anne had made it clear that the two of them were just friends. But what if, “you like hockey?”

Anne shrugs, looking out the window as they drove into the city. “I don’t hate it, but I couldn’t tell you much about it. I’m more of a basketball girl, honestly.” Tyson scoffs, Anne turning to him. She had a smile on her face, trying to hide the slight insult she felt by the noise he made. “What?”

“Hockey is clearly better.”

“You’re just biased.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong,” he teases her, reaching over and nudging her arm. His hand lingers on her arm for a little bit, not really thinking about Anne’s noticeable settling into his touch. “Um,” he clears his throat, taking his arm back and praying that it was dark enough that Anne couldn’t see the red on his face, “What are your teams?”

“Men’s are the Nuggets, of course, women are the Seattle Storm, and college I go for UConn.”

“Did you go there?”

Anne shakes her head, Tyson admiring the way her hair framed her face, thankful that she was looking out the window instead of at him. “Nope, I went to CU Denver. My dad’s other brother, Johnny, went to UConn, and when I was born, that was around the start of the women’s dynasty that they have. When my dad was away on trips and mom was working, he and Aunt Lisa would watch the four of us and always have the UConn games on. I fell in love with Diana Taurasi, Sue Bird, Maya Moore, Stephanie Dolson. I grew up wanting to play basketball and be like them, so I played basketball.”

“Did you in college?”

“No,” Anne laughs, looking at the building they were pulling up to. “I played until high school, and was definitely not good enough to play in college. I still love it, though.”

Tyson smiles at her, getting out of the car and rushing to the other side to help her out, linking his arm in hers to escort her in. “I love that,” he whispers to her, walking in and thankful that he had Anne on his arm that night.

The guys weren’t necessarily on his case about finding someone the way it seemed like Anne’s parents were, but that didn’t stop the chirping about him never having a girlfriend for as long as he was on the team. They knew she was his friend, but, hey, it was better than nothing.

Anne had no idea where Tyson took her, not recognizing the building they had walked into, but she was speechless at the sight of the grand ballroom, the lighting just dim enough that she couldn’t help but feel at peace, the noise from Tyson’s teammates and their families taking that away and leaving her overwhelmed. Tyson had slipped away to hang up their coats and grab drinks, leaving Anne to fend for herself for the time being.

She knew they weren’t late by any means but based on the sobriety, or lack thereof, that everyone was displaying, an outsider would think that Tyson and Anne had shown up hours late, everyone seemingly on at least their third drink of the night, if not more. Anne worked her way to the side of the room, giving herself a good view of the bar where Tyson was, hoping that he could find her after he was done chatting with whoever it was that had his attention.

“You look almost too comfortable for someone just watching everyone on the side. Who are you here with?” someone interrupts her thoughts. She snaps her attention to the mystery man standing next to her, leaning against the wall and looking out at the crowd as they danced and sang, drank and had fun. He was the same height as Tyson, just about, probably not that much younger but the rosiness on his cheeks made him look years younger than both her and Tyson.

“I’m here with Tyson,” she tells him, waving to the guy who was supposed to be by her side that night.

“You’re the girl who spilled her coffee on him when we went to the hospital for the charity event,” Rosy Boy laughs.

Anne scoffs, “I wish that wasn’t my legacy, but here we are.”

The two of them stand and watch everyone, laughing as some of the kids pretend to chase around the adults, one of them catching someone by the leg as the man pretended to fall down. “That’s our captain, Gabe,” Rosy Boy tells her, “being chased by Naylah, Nazem’s daughter.”

“So, Gabe, Nazem, Tyson,” Anne says, pointing at the only three men of the Avalanche that she knew, “You?”

“Cale Makar.”

“Anne DeFormicola.”

Cale smiles at her, turning his body so he was facing her directly. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Anne could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks, thankful that her hair was down to cover the red that she knew had appeared on her ears. “Uh, are you and Tyson together?” Cale asks, his voice shaking as he prayed he didn’t make the mistake of flirting with one of his teammate’s girls.

“No,” Anne tells him, “We’re just friends.”

Cale lets out a sigh of relief. “Good, I, uh,” he stammers, Anne’s confused look making him nervous despite the smile that was on her face, “I mean, good, good for me. You? Us? I don’t know what I’m saying.”

The two of them laugh together, Anne seeing Tyson out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t look particularly thrilled as he watched her and Cale talking, the distance between them shrinking as the conversation proceeded.

Before she knew it, Tyson was by her side, a glass of wine in hand for her that he practically thrust in her hand. “So, how’s Cale treating you?” Tyson asks, not hiding the discontent he felt seeing Anne and Cale so obviously flirting.

Anne watches Tyson down his drink, a little too fast for her liking, especially considering Cale was obviously uncomfortable by what his teammate was doing in that moment. “Very well, we were having a good conversation.” Anne sips her wine, Cale mumbling something and slipping away. “What was that about?”

“I want you to be careful?” Tyson says as if it were obvious, even though he was lying. He didn’t want to have to see Anne flirting with his teammate all night.

“Of who, Cale? Didn’t you tell me he was the human equivalent of a puppy?” Tyson rolls his eyes, looking over to the bar and already wishing he had more to drink before having this conversation. “What’s the worst he’s going to do? Bite my ankles? Bark when he wants to go play outside?”

“Ok, you’re being mean.”

“And you’re being ridiculous.” Anne studies his face, the way he bit his lip as he tried to find his words. “You remind me of Sebby.”

“Your little brother?” Tyson asks, not really wanting to be compared to him.

“He’s really protective of me. We’re all protective of each other, but he’s especially protective of me. You’re probably the same way with Kacey, right?”

Tyson swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah.” He wasn’t even just friend-zoned: he was sibling-zoned.

“You just don’t want me to get hurt,” Anne reasons, already finishing her wine. It’s not like it was that much in the glass. “I think if anyone was going to hurt me, it wouldn’t be Cale.”

The two of them stand there, watching Tyson’s teammates dancing as the music changed to something more upbeat. On the nearest table, Tyson put down his and Anne’s empty glasses, extending his hand out to Anne in a bid to lead her to the dance floor. Anne hesitates, not really too fond of dancing, but then Tyson smiled at her, raising his eyebrows, and for whatever reason, she felt like she had to go with him.

His hand found the small of her back, holding her close enough that they could still talk over the blaring from the music, his other hand in hers as he tried to get her to move to the rhythm of the song. It’s not that Anne was uncoordinated, but she just wasn’t that great with dancing. “I would have thought you were better at this,” Tyson teases her, looking down at their feet as Anne steps on for what he thought was the fourth time.

“I will gladly go back to my place against the wall and watch you make a fool out of yourself by yourself instead,” she jokes, rolling her eyes as Tyson spins her around.

He pulls her in closer than before, the music changing to a slower song. “I don’t think you want to do that,” Tyson tells her, his forehead pressed against hers. He could kiss her right now if she let him. This was technically their second date, if they considered the coffee place their first. And Tyson did. He didn’t know why he wanted this girl in front of him so badly so fast, but there was just something about her that he had to be with her.

Before Anne could say anything, she feels someone tapping on her shoulder. Pulling away from Tyson, she sees Cale standing there, his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. His entire face was red, clearly nervous, as he started, “Uh, sorry, but I was wondering if I could dance with Anne?”

Anne smiles at him, looking over at Tyson to signal that she wanted to. Cale was adorable, and something about him left Anne unable to say no to him. Tyson gives a sad smile, releasing Anne from his grasp. “I’m going to go get another drink,” he says, leaving his date and teammate alone to be closer than they were before. He couldn’t be with a girl that didn’t want to be with him, he thought, downing the drink he got probably too fast. At least tomorrow he could pretend that the two of them were together, pretending that he was hers and she was his.

But for now, he had to watch Anne smiling and staring at Cale, his teammate holding her so close that Tyson wanted nothing more than to be Cale.

Tyson had his back against the bar, watching Cale and Anne dance and have fun when JT came up to him. “Didn’t you bring a date?” JT was the only one Tyson had told about the fake dating plan between him and Anne.

“Yep.”

“She in the bathroom?”

“She’s dancing with Cale,” Tyson says, raising what he thinks was his third drink in their direction. He was praying that they couldn’t get any closer than they were now, but the way Anne was smiling, he knew that was what she wanted.

JT looks between Anne and Cale together and Tyson’s near angry expression as he took another sip of his drink. “Oh, I get it,” JT realizes, Tyson side-eyeing his friend. “You like her, and now you’re seeing her with Cale and you’re jealous.”

Tyson could feel himself start to panic. He did like her, but he wasn’t about to let everyone know that. “No,” he lies, JT scoffing at him. He hated that he knew him so well. “Maybe.”

“Well, then why aren’t you the one dancing with her?” JT asks, Tyson watching Anne throw her head back laughing, Cale burying his head in her shoulder, a smile just as big as hers on his face.

“She wanted to dance with him. What was I going to do, say ‘no?’

“Yes.”

“No,” he rebuts, signaling the bartender for yet another drink. “At least I can pretend to date her around her family,” he shrugs.

“Yeah, until she pretends to dump you because she’s really dating Cale.”

“Maybe in the new year you should try to be more helpful instead of whatever you are now,” Tyson snaps. “Sorry,” he mumbles into the fresh drink he was bringing to his lips, planning on downing it as fast as he got it. If he had to watch Anne dancing with Cale, he might as well be drunk so he can’t remember it in the morning.

“It’s almost midnight,” Cale whispers to Anne.

“Yeah,” she smirks, having a feeling she knew where this was going, especially judging by the way his grip tightened around her waist.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, getting nervous about what he wanted to ask her. “Who are you kissing at midnight?"

Anne can’t help but smile, his innocence endearing to her. Tyson and JT were still watching the two of them dance even though Anne and Cale were too focused on each other to notice. “I think it depends on your answer,” she flirts.

“I was kind of hoping it would be you,” he tells her.

Anne laughs, “Yeah, I got that,” she tells him, running her hand through his hair at the nape of his neck, sending a chill down his spine. “I was hoping it would be you, too,” she tells him, closing her eyes with their foreheads pressed against each other. She almost wished she had spilled her coffee on Cale instead of Tyson, not needing to pretend to date him tomorrow and instead just date Cale and date him for real. It might have been the alcohol or the night that was making her feel this way, but Cale was not a hard guy to like.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Tyson mumbles, not wanting to see Anne and Cale anymore, setting his drink down and leaving the room before JT could protest.

Soon after, everyone began their countdown to midnight, chanting while Anne and Cale stayed silent.

Anne knew Cale wanted to kiss her before the countdown was over. He was hovering against her lips as soon as someone yelled ‘ten!’ She didn’t know what it was about him, but she was ready to kiss him, not waiting for everyone to get past ‘five’ before she connected with him for a second, already wanting more as soon as they started.

Cale pulled away fast, smiling, moving his hands from her waist to cup her face, kissing her as soon as everyone around them was screaming ‘Happy New Year!’ When they finally pulled away, Cale’s entire face was red, and Anne knew that there was some color on her cheeks, too. Kissing Cale was something else, but something was missing. She just couldn’t put her finger on it.

=============

January 1, 2022

Anne and Cale danced a little longer, some of the guys and their families starting to leave.

“I think I have to go find Tyson,” Anne tells Cale, realizing she hadn’t seen the boy she came with for the better part of an hour.

“Uh, wait,” Cale says as Anne starts to pull away, Anne stopping as Cale smiles at her. He puts on her jaw, tilting her head up to kiss her again. “Can I see you again?”

Anne smiles, biting her lip. “I’d like that. But I really have to find Tyson.”

The two of them start walking around, trying to locate their lost boy. “Are you coming back with us?”

“Us?”

“Tys and I live in the same building,” Cale explains, part of him wanting to ask Anne to go home with him.

Before he can, Anne starts, “No, Tyson is staying at my place tonight. We have something tomorrow. Today,” she corrects herself.

“Oh, ok. Well, then, can I get your number?”

“When we find Tyson because he has the ticket for our coats and my phone is in my coat,” she explains, regretting giving everything to Tyson.

“Anne!” they hear someone yell, turning around to see Tyson stumbling over despite JT trying to help him up. Anne hadn’t told him not to get very drunk out of caution for having to deal with her family in a few hours, but now she was regretting forgetting.

“How much did he drink?” Anne panics, slinging Tyson's free arm around her shoulder.

“When I got to him he was already on four and I think he had at least three more while I was with him. I couldn’t tell you what he had on his own,” JT explains, the four of them getting their stuff and trying to get out while Tyson could barely walk.

Tyson mumbles something, trying to lean his head against Anne’s shoulder while they walked, despite the three-inch height difference that would have been bigger had Anne not been wearing heels. JT asks him to repeat it while he orders and Uber to get Tyson and Anne home. “Anne’s so pretty,” Tyson says, practically screaming it in Anne’s ear.

“Thank you, Tyson,” she says, trying to be as sweet as she could despite her anger she felt for him getting this drunk.

Tyson keeps babbling incoherently, none of them wanting to try to figure out what he was saying while they were waiting in their Ubers.

“Hey, Anne, hand me your phone,” JT asks, trying to reach out to her with his free hand while also making sure Tyson didn’t fall over or fall on Anne. She does as he asks, Cale standing there wondering why he didn’t just do that in the first place. “Text me when you two get back to your place and let me know how he is before you leave for your Uncle’s.”

“Yeah, of course,” Anne says, not even thinking about how he would have known where the two of you were going later.

Before Cale can ask for Anne’s phone, the Uber for her and Tyson pulls up. “Are you sure you’re good to get him back?” Cale asks her while JT gets Tyson in the car safely.

Anne nods, putting her hand on Cale’s bicep to reassure him. “Yeah, he should sober up enough to walk with just me during the drive back. Thank you, though,” she says, giving him a quick kiss before climbing into the car.

“I wish it was me,” Tyson slurs, his head on Anne’s shoulder as the Uber pulls away.

“What’s that, Tyson?” Anne asks.

“I wish it was me that was kissing you.”

Anne looks at him, his eyes closed as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “When?”

“At midnight. I wanted to kiss you at midnight. I just hope you didn’t kiss Cale. That would make me sad,” he says, letting out a yawn.

Before Anne could say anything to respond, Tyson was asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and the Uber driver probably hoping they remembered this to tell their friends in the morning. Why would he have wanted to kiss her? They were just friends. They had both made it very clear that everything they were doing was just out of friendship because they both needed someone to be there for the other and just pretend they were something they were not.

This wasn’t going to be like one of those ‘fake dating’ tropes that Anne had read in books when she was a teenager or in rom coms. Those weren’t real life. That didn’t happen.

Anne gets Tyson up to her apartment, surprised that she was able to drag him out of the Uber and balance him long enough that he didn’t fall over and take her with him to the ground. She practically threw him onto her bed, getting him in position so no matter what happened he would be fine. He was asleep almost immediately, a soft snore coming from his lips.

Anne pulls out her phone to text JT that his teammate was asleep, getting herself ready to go sleep on the couch.

The next morning, Anne woke up to Tyson sitting at her kitchen table, already having helped himself to a cup of coffee. “You look like you’re feeling great,” Anne commented, Tyson clearly hungover from the night before.

“Why did I wake up in your bed and not your couch?” Tyson asked.

Anne shrugs, fixing herself a cup of coffee to join him. “You’re my guest and the couch isn’t the most comfortable thing to fall asleep on if you aren’t used to it.”

“You are?”

“I’ve fallen asleep plenty of times while I was reading on that couch,” Anne tells him, wishing she had something to offer him to eat. “Uh, when we get to my uncle’s house, there’s going to be a ton of food so if we didn’t eat now, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”

Tyson nods, looking down at his coffee. He wished that he didn’t have to pretend to be Anne’s boyfriend. He already wanted to be more, but Cale was already closer to that in one night than Tyson was in how many weeks. “What do I need to know about your family before I meet them?”

Anne starts rambling about her family: her grandparents moved back to New York which was where they grew up so she hasn’t seen them in a while because they’re too old to make the trip out here and she hasn’t had time to make the trip to see them. They were going to her Uncle Vince’s house, her dad’s older brother. He has three kids, Michael, Emily, and Spencer, all of them dating someone. Then there’s Uncle Johnny, her dad’s younger brother, who has two kids, Lauren and Landon, and three grandkids from Lauren: Christopher, Lydia, and Henry.

Tyson didn’t even know if he was going to remember everything she was saying; from the food that Johnny brings just for Landon because of allergies, or the food that was designated as ‘the kid's food’ which was absolutely off-limits unless you were under the age of five years old. The Sam Adams’ beer is only meant for Aunt Lisa and Aunt Laura unless they offer it to you, but the wine is a free for all because it’s guaranteed that everyone of age brought their own bottle anyway, including Anne.

“Wait, but I don’t have a bottle,” Tyson asks, both of them getting up to get ready.

Anne smiles at him, going into one of her cabinets. “You want white or red?” she asks, holding up two bottles. “Because, as you know, I’m partial to red.”

Tyson laughs, taking the bottle of white wine from her, not even sure if he should be drinking anything given the night before. He was just lucky he somehow didn't feel worse despite how much he had. “I knew you were my kind of girl.”

They stand there for a second, neither of them sure how to react or what to do. “We should go get ready,” Anne says, bringing the bottles over to where she kept her keys so she wouldn’t forget them.

She retreats to her room, leaving Tyson to get ready out in the open of the rest of her apartment. That wasn’t a moment they just had in her kitchen, she tells herself. She puts on a pair of jeans, trying to find a shirt suitable enough for her mom to not nag her about, finally settling on a sweater that she was almost sure was Lucy’s that she stole a few months ago.

“Hey, Anne,” she hears Tyson calling her. “Someone’s calling you.”

An unknown number flashed on her screen in Tyson's hand, her forgetting she left the phone by the couch. Normally an unsaved contact was something that she wouldn’t answer, but the Calgary area code, for no reason whatsoever, told her that she had to answer it. “Hello?”

“Anne? It’s Cale. Sorry, I got your number from JT.”

Anne smiles, looking at Tyson who could hear his teammate's voice just loud enough that it made him upset. Tyson’s words from the night before rang through Anne’s mind as she finally answered him back, “Hey, no, it’s fine. What’s up?” Anne goes back into her room to finish getting ready, putting Cale on speaker as she does.

“I just wanted to check on you. And Tyson, I mean, that you were ok with him last night.”

Anne laughs at his nerves, the same ones that came through when they were first talking last night that she was thankful had faded as time went on. “Yeah, we’re fine. We’re getting ready to head out, though.”

“Any idea what time you would be done? I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”

She could hear his voice shaking, wishing that she could say yes. “I can’t tonight, but maybe another time?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says, both of them saying goodbye as Anne grabs what she needs to head out.

“You ready?” she asks Tyson. He looked good, a simple black button-down he had paired with jeans. Why did he have to look good? Tyson nods, grabbing the wine while Anne grabbed her keys.

The two of them drive in silence, her phone plugged into her car with Cale and JT’s contacts popping up on the screen on her center console as they were texting her. “I’m glad you got along with some of the guys last night,” Tyson tells her, finally breaking the silence between them.

“Yeah, me too. Especially since someone seemed to enjoy the bar more than anything else,” she teases.

“Hey, the bartender was attractive, and giving free drinks, what was I supposed to do?”

Anne laughs, knowing that wasn’t the real reason he was there the entire night. She didn’t know what that reason was, but it wasn’t because of the looks of the person giving Tyson drinks. “What do you remember from last night?”

Tyson hesitates, really not sure what to answer. “I remember the drinks and you were dancing with Cale at some point.”

“You remember none of the Uber drive back?”

He almost did. He knew he had fallen on Anne’s shoulder, but he didn’t remember getting into the car with her. He wasn’t even sure that Anne was the one that got him in the car. “Not really, no.”

“Ok,” Anne says, partially thankful for that. She wasn’t sure she would want to relive the part of the night, nor did she think Tyson would either.

She pulls up to her uncle’s house, already seeing Lucy’s car and her cousin Spencer's sitting in the driveway. “Ready to enter the belly of the beast?” she asks him, patting his thigh as a sign of encouragement.

Tyson looks out to the house, seeing someone standing in the doorway waiting for them to get out of the car. “We’ve gotta start acting like a couple, now, don’t we?” he says, leaning closer to her across the center console.

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing that he wanted a kiss or something, anything to show Aunt Laura that Tyson was actually her boyfriend. She does kiss him, sweet and slow. Tyson was sure if they weren’t being watched, he would have gone for more, but knowing he couldn’t was killing him. He had to make the most of the time he had with Anne’s family.

When Anne pulled away, she reached up to Tysons face, grazing her thumb along his beard as his hand connected with hers. She didn’t know why, but she kissed him again, their foreheads pressed together as they sat there in her car. It was different kissing him compared to Cale. A good different, and like last night, she couldn't put her finger on why. She almost forgot where they were, startled by Aunt Laura knocking on her window.

Anne’s face had to be bright red, embarrassed that her aunt saw whatever moment, real or fake or whatever that was, while sitting in the driveway of her house. She greets her aunt as she gets out of the car, handing her the two bottles of wine.

“You must be Tyson!” she says, more excited than Anne thought she would be. “Teresa’s told us so much about you, come in, come in,” she gestures. Anne was sure that she would have dragged him in by the collar of his shirt if she didn’t have the wine in her hands already.

Tyson looks at Anne, confused. “I have no idea what my mom could have said to her,” Anne says. Tyson shrugs, grabbing Anne’s hand as she leads him into the house.

Lucy comes running up as soon as Anne steps through the door, a baby that couldn’t be more than a year old in her arms. “Hey there, Hazel,” Anne coos, taking her goddaughter from her sister. Hazel reaches out, grabbing Anne’s hair as Anne winces at the slight pain from the baby’s pull. “This is Tyson.”

“Hi, pretty girl,” Tyson says, Hazel reaching out, squirming to get away from Anne and into Tyson’s arms. “Is it ok if I hold her?” he asks Lucy, waiting for her to nod before Anne passes her off to him.

Lucy pulls her sister aside, a silly grin on her face. “He’s perfect,” she gushes, “Look at him!” Tyson was bouncing Hazel up and down, Hazel shrieking with glee with him.

“He’s not perfect,” Anne says, “but he might be close.” The sisters laugh, Lucy hugging Anne from behind while they continue to watch Anne’s ‘boyfriend’ interact with Lucy’s youngest daughter. Anne wasn’t even sure if she was really pretending as the rest of her family came into her uncle’s house.

Teresa was practically attached to Tyson the entire time, as were Skylar and Harper once Tyson started playing with them. Literally, Tyson was walking around Uncle Vince’s house with Skylar and Harper clinging to each of his legs. Tyson was the center of attention, Anne wishing that it wasn’t because everyone was just finally excited that Anne found a man.

“What do you think of him?” Anne asks Sebby, the two of them watching Tyson and Matthew talking as if there was no one else was in the room. She had heard ‘touchdown’ and ‘linebacker’ come up in conversation, meaning Matthew was going on a rant about the Broncos, something that he did way too often.

Sebby looks him up and down, pursing his lips while he thought about it. “I’m not sure I trust him.”

“Oh, come on,” Anne whines.

“He’s an athlete. And a professional one, at that,” Sebby throws his hands up in defense. Growing up, Sebby was the only one who didn’t really like sports, feeling they were a waste of time when he could be doing something like reading or studying. Sports were only relevant when his siblings were involved, otherwise, he hated them.

“Give him a chance. Please?” Anne begs, not even sure if it were necessary. “He’s not Andy.”

Sebby narrows his eyes at his sister, jumping slightly as Tyson and Matthew start laughing. “Why didn’t you mention him before Christmas?”

“If you remember, I didn’t mention him at Christmas, you did,” Anne scolds him, trying to figure out what story to tell her brother. “And, it was still new. I didn’t want to say anything if it wasn’t going to be something.”

“Is it?”

“Maybe. I think so,” Anne lies. At least, she thought she was lying.

Tyson comes over to Anne while she was talking with Sebby about his upcoming semester, his last one before he graduated from college and hopefully entered law school. He wraps his arms around her, kissing her cheek before resting his chin on her shoulder. “You think I could steal her for a second?” he asks.

Sebby narrows his eyes, Tyson a little thrown off by her brother’s reaction. “Sure.”

Tyson brings Anne into another room, praying that no one would walk in on them. “We didn’t talk about anything we could say to your family about how we met,” he brings up.

“I was planning on deferring that to you since I normally can’t get a word in otherwise,” she admits, even though she hadn’t thought about it before.

“That’s not fair,” Tyson says, looking over Anne’s shoulder to see someone in her family looking at the two of them. “Your family is watching.”

Anne follows Tyson’s gaze, turning and waving at Landon and Lauren. She reaches up and puts her hand on Tyson’s cheek, Tyson taking it with his own and kissing the palm of her hand. “When you see how I get pushed aside at dinner, you’ll understand why it’s fair.”

The two of them continue talking about how they were going to go on with the rest of the day, Anne telling Tyson she was fine with everything he had done so far and really didn’t care if he kept doing it. Anne, not wanting to tell Tyson, liked what he was doing. It felt right for some reason. Was Tyson right that it should have been the two of them kissing at midnight and not her and Cale?

Tyson’s drunken confession from the night before was still ringing in her mind when everyone got called to sit down for dinner. Tyson was still, unsurprisingly, the center of attention. His hand was on Anne’s thigh for most of dinner, Lucy’s eyes never leaving as Anne rested her’s in his. The usual rounds of conversation started, asking Lucy about her medical practice, Jason about Andersen’s, his restaurant that bore his family’s name, Matthew and Steph about work at United, Sebby about how he was feeling going into this last semester of college.

Then the conversation was supposed to turn to Anne, normally swamped with questions about Anne’s lack of love life. Instead, of course, the conversation turned to Tyson.

“How did you two meet?” Teresa asks, giving a smug look to her daughter, “Anne hasn’t told us anything about you.”

Tyson hesitates, figuring Anne wouldn’t want her family knowing they met when she spilled her coffee on him. “I was out with some of my teammates after practice one day,” he starts, hoping that whatever was about to come out of his mouth was good enough. “We were at a coffee shop, and I saw Anne there grabbing something before her shift at the hospital. I saw her smile at the barista when she thanked him for taking her order and,” he looks at her, taking Anne and putting it on the table for her family to see. “Something about that smile of hers I just knew I had to talk to her. I needed her in my life and I’m happy she’s in it.”

He kisses the side of her head, whispering, “we have to remember that story now,” against her skin. When he pulls away, Anne smiles at him, signaling that she would. There was no way she could forget that honestly. Why was pretending to like him so easy?

The conversation stays on him for a little longer, Anne never being asked anything. Finally, Emily stands up with Jimmy, saying they had an announcement. “We’re engaged!” she squeals, holding up her left hand with the ring that she either just put on, or no one noticed as the family congratulated her. Jimmy had proposed at midnight, down on one knee right as whoever they were with said ‘Happy New Year!’

“Another wedding!” Teresa yells, Tony rolling his eyes next to her. He didn’t hate weddings, he hated his wife’s need to spend an extravagant amount of money on a new dress and presents for the couple every time. “And then maybe we’ll have one for Anne in the next year, too, oh Tony we’ll get to plan another wedding.”

“Mom!” Anne scolds, Tyson’s face getting bright red. “That ringing in your ears is not wedding bells.”

The rest of the dinner goes on fine, Anne and her siblings off in one of the rooms while their spouses and Tyson were nowhere to be found.

“I think Tyson’s scared of me,” Lucy says, examining her nails.

“He might just be intimidated by you, Signoria Perfezione,” Anne teases her with the nickname Lucy got when she was little, her need for order prevalent from a young age.

“Yeah, he said that Anne told him how smart you were and he didn’t want to feel stupid around you,” Matthew points out.

“Well, shouldn’t he be intimidated by Anne?” Sebby asks.

“I know you’re trying to compliment me, but your tone says otherwise,” Anne says. “Why don’t you like him?”

The three of them look at their youngest siblings. “There’s something off,” he starts, Anne feeling her heart start to race. “He’s like borderline pretending to be with you.”

“Come on, man, you’re paranoid,” Matthew scoffs, Lucy agreeing.

“I mean,” Sebby explains, “He looks at Anne like he wants to be with her, not like he actually is with her.”

“You’re just over analyzing. We’re together. Probably more together than you and Collins are,” Anne fires back, part of her hating that she was lying to her siblings, the other part of her wondering how much of it was a lie.

Sebby shrugs, “Well yeah, because we broke up.” Anne’s jaw drops, Matthew raises his eyebrows in shock, Lucy the only one to scream and actually make a verbal acknowledgment of what he just said. “Yeah, the other night. She finally blew up over the whole, ‘I don’t want to move to Boston or California,’ thing and said if I wasn’t willing to move to be with her then I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“Oh, I don’t like that,” Anne says.

"Why didn't you tell us," Lucy asks.

"I see how they act about Anne never being with someone," he says, Anne glaring at him. "I'll just find someone in law school and not say anything unless they ask. Plus, I don’t want to be that far away from you guys. Why would I stay with someone who wants me to do that?” he admits.

“Aw, you do like us!” Lucy teases him, her and Matthew tackling him in a hug while Sebby yells for them to get off, yelling louder when Anne joins in.

“Hey, um,” Tyson interrupts, “Sorry, you’re having a moment.”

“No, no, what’s up?” Anne breaks off, going over to him.

“Your aunt said dessert is out,” he tells them, or, rather, tells Anne with her siblings in earshot.

“See, you’re delusional,” Lucy tells Sebby as they walk past Anne and Tyson into the next room.

Tyson looks at her confused, waiting for an explanation. “I think Sebby’s catching on to us pretending,” she shrugs, really not that worried. She and Tyson could talk later about how long this would go on, and if anyone in the family were to find out that it was fake, Sebby would be the one to keep it quiet.

She goes into the next room, leaving Tyson there by himself. “Yeah, pretending,” he says to himself.

[antoine-roquentin]

obliquely, this is in reference to how formerly working class bastions in the midwest that used to elect socialists now elect republicans. if we all gave up the theory that LGBT people are normal, we might once again go back to the days where we elected socialists across the country. thomas frank, what’s the matter with kansas:

But its periodic bouts of leftism were what really branded Kansas with the mark of the freak. Every part of the country in the nineteenth century had labor upheavals and protosocialist reform movements, of course. In Kansas, though, the radicals kept coming out on top. It was as though the blank landscape prompted dreams of a blank-slate society, a place where institutions might be remade as the human mind saw fit. Maps of the state from the 1880s show a hamlet (since vanished) called Radical City; in nearby Crawford County the town of Girard was home to the Appeal to Reason, a socialist newspaper whose circulation was in the hundreds of thousands. In that same town, in 1908, Eugene Debs gave a fiery speech accepting the Socialist Party’s nomination for president; in 1912 Debs actually carried Crawford County, one of four he won nationwide. (All were in the Midwest.) In 1910 Theodore Roosevelt signaled his own lurch to the left by traveling to Kansas and giving an inflammatory address in Osawatomie, the onetime home of John Brown.

The most famous freak-out of them all was Populism, the first of the great American leftist movements.* Populism tore through other states as well—wailing all across Texas, the South, and the West in the 1890s—but Kansas was the place that really distinguished itself by its enthusiasm. Driven to the brink of ruin by years of bad prices, debt, and deflation, the state’s farmers came together in huge meetings where homegrown troublemakers like Mary Elizabeth Lease exhorted them to “raise less corn and more hell.” The radicalized farmers marched through the small towns in day-long parades, raging against what they called the “money power.” And despite all the clamor, they still managed to take the state’s traditional Republican masters utterly by surprise in 1890, sweeping the small-town slickers out of office and ending the careers of many a career politician. In the decade that followed they elected Populist governors, Populist senators, Populist congressmen, Populist supreme court justices, Populistcity councils, and probably Populist dogcatchers, too; men of strong ideas, curious nicknames, and a colorful patois....

For a generation, Kansas has been the testing-ground for every experiment in morals, politics, and social life. Doubt of all existing institutions has been respectable. Nothing has been venerable or revered merely because it exists or has endured. Prohibition, female suffrage, fiat money, free silver, every incoherent and fantastic dream of social improvement and reform, every economic delusion that has bewildered the foggy brains of fanatics, every political fallacy nurtured by misfortune, poverty and failure, rejected elsewhere, has here found tolerance and advocacy.

Today the two myths are one. Kansas may be the land of averageness, but it is a freaky, militant, outraged averageness. Kansas today is a burned-over district of conservatism where the backlash propaganda has woven itself into the fabric of everyday life. People in suburban Kansas City vituperate against the sinful cosmopolitan elite of New York and Washington, D.C.; people in rural Kansas vituperate against the sinful cosmopolitan elite of Topeka and suburban Kansas City. Survivalist supply shops sprout in neighborhood strip-malls. People send Christmas cards urging their friends to look on the bright side of Islamic terrorism, since the Rapture is now clearly at hand.

Under the state’s simple blue flag are gathered today some of the most flamboyant cranks, conspiracists, and calamity howlers the Republic has ever seen. The Kansas school board draws the guffaws of the world for purging state science standards of references to evolution. Cities large and small across the state still hold out against water fluoridation, while one tiny hamlet takes the additional step of requiring firearms in every home. A prominent female politician expresses public doubts about the wisdom of women’s suffrage, while another pol proposes that the state sell off the Kansas Turnpike in order to solve its budget crisis. Impoverished inhabitants of the state’s most scenic area fight with fanatical determination to prevent a national park from opening up in their neighborhood, while the rails-to-trails program, regarded everywhere else in the union as a harmless scheme for family fun, is reviled in Kansas as an infernal design on the rights of property owners. Operation Rescue selects Wichita as the stage for its great offensive against abortion, calling down thirty thousand testifying fundamentalists on the city, witnessing and blocking traffic and chaining themselves to fences. A preacher from Topeka travels the nation advising Americans to love God’s holy hate, showing up wherever a gay person has been in the news to announce that “God Hates Fags.” Survivalists and secessionists dream of backyard confederacies out on the lone prairie; schismatic Catholics declare the pope himself to be insufficiently Catholic; Posses Comitatus hold imaginary legal proceedings, sternly prosecuting state officials for participating in actual legal proceedings; and homegrown terrorists swap conspiracy theories at a house in Dickinson County before screaming off to strike a blow against big government in Oklahoma City.

the problem with this simple story is that social liberalism actually grew in lockstep with an economic policy tailored to the poor. in the 70s, the most common place to get gender reassignment surgery was at a catholic hospital in small town colorado. in 2010, in response to deep opposition in the town, the practice was forced to move to california. the second most common place was at a baptist hospital in oklahoma city, where such surgery was viewed as routine until a number of religious leaders decided to oppose it in the 70s. at the same time, many other religious leaders spoke out in favour of the surgery, saying that it comported well with religious tenets.

likewise, colorado legalized abortion in 1967, as did states like kansas, missouri, georgia, and north and south carolina prior to roe v wade. today, these states are considered anti-abortion and anti-lgbt hotspots, yet prior to the late 70s, compassion for such people was viewed as paramount in the life of america’s christians. so what happened? it clearly wasn’t an emphasis on the social aspects of poor american lives that shifted the political arena in favour of religious conservatism. rather, as thomas frank points out in the same book:

Nobody mows their own lawn in Mission Hills anymore, and only a foot soldier in its armies of gardeners would park a Pontiac there. The doctors who lived near us in the seventies have pretty much been gentrified out, their places taken by the bankers and brokers and CEOs who have lapped them repeatedly on the racetrack of status and income. Every time I paid Mission Hills a visit during the nineties, it seemed another of the more modest houses in our neighborhood had been torn down and replaced by a much larger edifice, a three-story stone chateau, say, bristling with turrets and porches and dormers and gazebos and a three-car garage. The dark old palaces from the twenties sprouted spiffy new slate roofs, immaculately tailored gardens, remote-controlled driveway gates, and sometimes entire new wings. One grand old pile down the street from us was fitted with shiny new gutters made entirely of copper. A new house a few doors down from Esrey’s spread is so large it has two multicar garages, one at either end.

These changes are of course not unique to Mission Hills. What has gone on there is normal in its freakishness. You can observe the same changes in Shaker Heights or La Jolla or Winnetka or Ann Coulter’s hometown of New Canaan, Connecticut. They reflect the simplest and hardest of economic realities: The fortunes of Mission Hills rise and fall in inverse relation to the fortunes of ordinary working people. When workers are powerful, taxes are high, and labor is expensive (as was the case from World War II until the late seventies), the houses built here are smaller, the cars domestic, the servants rare, and the overgrown look fashionable in gardening circles. People read novels about eccentric English aristocrats trapped in a democratic age, sighing sadly for their lost world.

When workers are weak, taxes are down, and labor is cheap (as in the twenties and again today), Mission Hills coats itself in shimmering raiments of gold and green. Now the stock returns are plush, the bonus packages fat, the servants affordable, and the suburb finds that the princely life isn’t dead after all. It builds new additions and new fountains and new Italianate porches overlooking Olympic-sized flower gardens maintained by shifts of laborers. People read books about the glory of empire. The kids get Porsches or SUVs when they turn sixteen; the houses with asphalt roofs discreetly disappear; the wings that were closed off are triumphantly reopened, and all is restored to its former grandeur. Times may be hard where you live, but here events have yielded a heaven on earth, a pleasure colony out of the paintings of Maxfield Parrish.

america's workers and small farmers were saved by the reforms of the 1930s, as frank explains, then crushed as the wealthy found out how to squirrel away their taxes (in part thanks to the collapse of the british empire), accumulate wealth away from prying eyes, lobby the government for preferential treatment, and between 1976 and 2000, triumph completely in the political domain. mission hill donates more money to politicians than the rest of kansas combined. unions are swamped in state politics, and see declining fortunes. as a result, neoliberal social atomization takes effect, which sees even workers demanding beggar-thy-neighbour policies. and when thy neighbour is socially distinct from you, it becomes easier to justify voting for such politics based on a survival instinct. the majority of the working class tuned out and do not vote any more. among the rest, low skilled working class jobs in highly stratified and inequitable cities vote democrat, hoping for some patronage from the white collar creative class voters they serve, while blue collar skilled workers tend to vote republican, devoid of any examples of class politics in their lives with the death of unions and hoping to keep their share of wages against their only opposition, the tax man.

ultimately, any socially liberal politics sustained by donations from rich big city donors is unsustainable. on the other hand, the notion that “woke” politics is holding back leftism is, save for a few clearly absurd situations (robin diangelo, for instance) also wrong. economic leftism leads to social leftism, because respect to the working class leads to respect for its identities. neoliberal atomization is a much deeper force than can be surmounted at the ballot box, even in a primary, but it is always an economic force first and foremost.

[posthumus]

hullo boys, today i’m writing about my thoughts on the Dickie incident in Maurice. (potential content warning for sexual assault and pedophilia — if you’ve read the book, though, it won’t get more graphic than that)

i’ve actually always appreciated the Dickie scene, controversial though it is. i first read the book when i was fifteen — the same age as Dickie himself, iirc (EDIT: I did not, in fact, recall correctly; see here) — and i feel like i got it instantly: to me, it serves to highlight the extremely fucked-up attitudes towards sex society helps to internalize. that said, your mileage may vary on how much discomfort you’re able to withstand, and i think it’s completely fair to feel that the incident makes Maurice — the character and/or the book — irredeemable. i’m able to forgive a lot of the more problematic elements of Maurice because i think they’re adequately criticized in the text (at one point Forster literally calls Clive and Maurice misogynists). however, i don’t blame anyone for feeling uncomfortable with them. mostly, i’m trying to explain why i personally like the function of Dickie within the story, and why i think the whole episode requires a nuanced approach. 

first up: i’ve seen the whole Dickie thing’s presentation interpreted as completely uncritical, which i think is pretty misinformed. i’ll certainly admit that at the start of the chapter, it’s quite ambiguous as to which way the novel will frame Maurice’s feelings. it’s extremely uncomfortable to read, especially in a modern context: there’s an element of suspense as you try to guess whether or not an author of this time period would have endorsed sexual assault. but the catharsis comes at the end of the next chapter, when the horror of the whole situation snaps into sharp focus: “was it conceivable that on sunday last he had nearly assaulted a boy?” for the previous chapter, Maurice had been kidding himself about the whole thing, and it doesn’t seem quite as rapey as it actually is; but then we’re thrown the word assault, and it becomes clear that we are, in fact, meant to understand that this was a horrible thing to even think of doing. 

in my opinion, the book in no way endorses Maurice's thoughts — i actually think that, for his time, Forster was taking a pretty noble stance. the introduction to my copy of Maurice, by David Leavitt, includes a quote from Lytton Strachey, who wrote to Forster, “you apparently regard the Dickie incident with grave disapproval. why?” like, pederasty was still celebrated amongst a lot of gay men at the time. the fact that the Dickie thing reads so uncomfortably at all is a testament to Forster's (correct) stance on the issue; i think you're meant to be grossed the fuck out by Maurice's thoughts. (also, not that this exempts him from criticism, but Forster himself was assaulted as a child; i think he very much understood the gravity of what he was suggesting.)

secondly, Maurice is an EXTREMELY flawed character, and it seems ludicrous to suggest that we're expected to sympathize with all of his thoughts and actions. he's an asshole for most of the book. much emphasis is placed on the fact that Maurice is an entirely average man within his time, location, and class; his opinions and actions fall in line with that, which is why i’m personally okay with his misogyny (even though i’d throw hands with him in real life). 

the big misunderstanding with a lot of Maurice’s flaws, i think, is that he isn’t a self-insert character, either for the reader or the author (consider the terminal note: “in Maurice i wanted to create a character who was completely unlike myself”). none of Forster’s characters are blank slates, to my mind — they all have extremely specific personalities; we’re not meant to be following them wholeheartedly the way we would with, say, Harry Potter. i worry some people read the book expecting to be able to back him 100%, but i think we're supposed to be observing Maurice, not putting ourselves in his shoes. (the omniscient narration helps with that, as we're told about elements of his psyche that Maurice himself isn't aware of. also, i’m no expert, so don't quote me here, but i think the concept of a self-insert protagonist is a sort of newer one? i feel like most books pre-mid-twentieth century have characters you're supposed to observe and criticize, and not wholly empathize with — Nick Carraway comes to mind.) 

lastly on his flaws, i think the genre you place the book in influences how angry you are at Maurice. if you see it as a romance novel, which is certainly a fair reading, his sudden moments of insane fucked-up-ness make it much harder to root for him. i’ve come to see it as more of a bildungsroman, so i think the point is Maurice's mistakes; he has to reckon with a lot of his actions, including the Dickie incident. 

the part of the whole Dickie debacle that’s the most fascinating to me is its context within Maurice’s discussion of sexuality. i think the Dickie incident showcases how sexual repression and internalized homophobia can pervert your perspective on all sexual relationships. within the novel, sex in general feels like something criminal (certainly in Maurice’s case this is true for sex between men; however, there are also the diagrams on the beach at the start of the book, and Anne’s complete lack of knowledge about sex when she marries Clive). if you view all sexual relationships as immoral, though, pedophilia and sexual assault become no more unethical than consensual sex. it’s interesting in that light, then, to compare the Dickie incident to the moment with the man on the train two chapters later: one absolutely should be illegal, but they are both interpreted by Maurice as obscene, and both (if acted upon) would have been criminal offenses. i also think it’s interesting that the man on the train is perhaps the closest comparison to Forster himself within the novel, as Forster, in middle age, cruised London’s public spaces in the hopes of finding someone to hook up with. while Maurice loathes the man on the train (David Leavitt’s introduction, again, discusses how Forster wrote a love story that deliberately excludes himself), i don’t think the reader is meant to. 

personally, the Dickie scene resonates with me as someone attracted to women. being told that your own desires are inherently predatory doesn’t dispel those desires, but only makes you ashamed of them, and warps your perception of healthy sexuality. i tend to interpret Maurice’s feelings about Dickie more as intrusive thoughts than actual, tangible want — this kind of obscenity, to his mind, is inevitable for him. i don’t think Maurice would have actually assaulted Dickie. i think he was cracking under the pressures of an openly hostile society, while grappling with his own repression and unmet needs. 

TL;DR — Maurice is a flawed character and Forster is critical of his actions. further, the Dickie incident gives us a striking picture of Edwardian society’s attitude towards all sexual relationships, which still has applications today; the episode also gives us insight into Maurice’s mental state. it’s uncomfortable, but in my opinion necessary to the core message of the book.

[shredsandpatches]

(1) You reblogged something the other day that my brain won't let go of. I fully admit to knowing next to nothing other than what you reblog and comment on about Richard and Anne (I follow you for content other than that) but this post struck a chord in me. It was discussing Anne's barrenness; the failure of her childlessness. And it's just ... how do we know she was the barren one in that relationship? Richard didn't have any children so why is the blame on her shoulders?

(2) Other than it's traditionally the woman's fault. Am I missing something?

No, you’re totally right--we don’t know exactly why Richard and Anne were infertile, or whose problem it was; there’s no way of knowing because it seems pretty likely that Anne was the only woman Richard ever had sex with. Usually you’ll even see historians point that out, just in passing, that there’s no evidence that Richard was fertile, and in fact, some more recent scholars argue that Richard was much more concerned with how their lack of children reflected on him as both a man and a king. 

Katherine Lewis has argued that Richard’s emphasis on his devotion to Edward the Confessor, who was believed to have had a chaste marriage (although historians of his reign don’t think he actually did), was meant to imply that he and Anne had done likewise. Kristen Geaman’s work has proved pretty conclusively that Richard and Anne didn’t have a chaste marriage, an idea that was always pretty improbable (they were both very conscious of their lineage and knew that they would need an heir to the throne), by bringing to light a letter Anne wrote to her brother, Wenceslaus IV of Bohemia, around 1384, which may suggest that she had a miscarriage around that time, and certainly demonstrates that she was optimistic that she would have a successful pregnancy in the future. So they were definitely trying -- Geaman also analyzes an apothecary bill from 1393–94, the last year of Anne’s life, and concludes that, based on the medicines she purchased, she was probably still trying to conceive at the time of her apparently sudden death. If she did have a miscarriage (or more than one, but that must remain speculative*) it’s possible that the problem was on her end physically, and that she could conceive but not carry to term -- this may be supported by the fact that most of her (full and half) siblings had only one child or none at all, while Richard’s Holland half-siblings had lots of kids -- but that still doesn’t make it her fault, and clearly Richard didn’t hold it against her.   

Geaman’s dissertation devotes a lot of time to arguing that Anne probably wasn’t seen as the one to blame for the lack of an heir, and that Richard’s contemporary critics, during the reign and certainly after his deposition, would probably have placed the blame squarely on him for his immaturity and unmanliness** -- although there are other scholars who see the generally lukewarm treatment of Anne in the chronicles as a sign of her “ambivalent legacy” (a term used by Michael Hanrahan in his reading of Chaucer’s Clerk’s Tale as being focused on Richard and Anne’s lack of an heir; there’s also a good article by Anna Duch where she addresses why Thomas Walsingham, specifically, might have resented Anne, although it reflects much better on Anne than it does Walsingham). She follows Lewis in arguing that Richard was probably unnerved enough by this that after Anne’s death he wanted to imply that he and Anne had had a celibate marriage and thus prove his manly self-control, but concedes that any efforts made in this direction were not successful among his contemporaries (although they certainly worked on historians centuries later). I really love her work on Anne as queen and historical figure -- she is pretty much the go-to person for scholarship on Anne as a person rather than as a symbolic cultural figure -- but I’m not sure I’m convinced by the “Richard pretended to have a chaste marriage” argument for that basic reason; the primary audience for it would have been people who had been close to the couple, who had an unconventionally companionate marriage for the time period, built an island resort palace with unprecedented levels of privacy, and were actively trying to conceive to the degree that they sought medical intervention. (And it’s worth pointing out that @nuingiliath has suggested to me that perhaps Richard might also have wanted to protect Anne’s legacy by presenting her as a holy virgin rather than a barren queen, if Lewis’ and Geaman’s speculations are true.)

All that said: you do have a lot more attention paid to infertility by scholars/historians who are talking about Anne, and I think a lot of this is based on a) as you said, the unexamined assumption that infertility is the woman’s fault physically, and b) the assumption that infertility is the woman’s problem and that it’s the queen’s only job (except warrior queens like Isabella of France of Margaret of Anjou). Christopher Fletcher’s book on Richard and medieval masculinity goes so far to call Richard and Anne’s marriage a disaster, despite its incredible success on the personal level, because of their infertility. But queenship studies in the last couple of decades have made great strides in examining the role of queens beyond providing heirs -- which, of course, was part of the queen’s job, but not the entirety of it -- whereas fertility isn’t really represented as an issue for men most of the time, and I definitely hope that’s changing.  

*It’s what I do in my fictional writing, but I wouldn’t be able to support it in something scholarly. They’re different interpretive practices, obviously.

**You still sometimes get this today, like in Lisa Hilton’s book where she argues that Richard wasn’t mature enough to consummate his marriage to Anne, or John Bowers’ work where he argues -- based entirely on readings of Chaucer, like Chaucer would have known what was going on in the king’s marriage -- that Richard and Anne had a celibate marriage because Richard was using piety to hide his horrible deviant gayness. These people can fuck right off. You also sometimes get authors who argue that they had a celibate marriage on Anne’s initiative and in imitation of some important Bohemian royal saints, although nearly all of the saints in question had celibate marriages after having children, which is why Anne was able to exist in the first place! She would certainly have known this, and would not have had a chance to give up marital relations because she died childless while still of reproductive age. Anyway scholars who suggest that a celibate marriage was Anne’s idea seem to think it gives her more agency, like a sexually active married woman who wanted children can’t have agency. 🙄

[itscinnafox]

STORY NOTES [akafuri] : By The Next Sunrise

Because I had sooooo much fun doing this with a friend (@miss-cactus) :] (also being the first collab' work that's posted) and had a lot of messy notes and drafts, it's just so precious to me not to ramble about it >w< also plenty of fun times in just 2 and half months despite life biting my ass at the same time, totally my stress relief lol. Also, this story really isn't just some cheesy stuff for the sake of romance. It's genuine love (੭ ˃̣̣̥ ω˂̣̣̥)੭ु⁾⁾

Read the story here in AO3 Summary: On the way to his brother’s house, the spring showers had begun again. With an open palm, he let it collect the cold showers and let it flow out from the cups of his palm. They were chilly despite the warming sun, he looked up at the sky, and wondered what the rain would be like in other parts of the world. Furihata smiled. He would find out. Perhaps by one of the next sunrises.

.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ. Rambles undercut ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧ .☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.☆ﾟ.

FIRSTLY, @miss-cactus has all my gratitude ♡(ŐωŐ人) without her; AkaFuri will be stranded in France LOL! Seriously, I'll just dump them in some random village in France and just maybe not even finish this story at all even. The time she took to find me a place, translate, edits and also judging me for my description of the place LOL yep... total life saver. With her help it really motivated and inspired me a lot! She's the oil to my car............. you get the idea :] .

BONUS, she's also a translator and translated many amazing works, basically a deity, breathing life back into them. Also, she has original works too :D check 'em out, it's cute! It's in French, but they're easily translated, she's that good! (๑>◡<๑) her AO3

WEIRD FACT, I also had a short break up with my boyfriend of 7 years while writing this. LOL. I was so upset but I got motivated by the similarities, that when he asked for us back I was like 'But-but the similarities though!' but I love him....bleeegh. So I said yes, and we're better than before. YAY!

๑ Story Base ๑ The idea popped when I was listening to 'The sun after washed by spring rain' by Wang Lee Hom on a rainy day on my day off, and florist Akashi just looks so beautiful lol and the rest just came up.... and I really wanted this vibe for AkaFuri something incredibly soft and warm~ just cozy >w< huehue~

This story sets in Spring, spring here, spring there~ Spring is the breath of new life, basically Furi's story lol.

I was also aiming for this story to be short and a bit poetic...... LOL then 11k words later I just gave up and was like: well, if AkaFuri wanna romance then who are we to say no? (Akashi will shave my hair in my sleep lol)

๑ Playlist ๑ Play on Youtube The playlist is by order according to each part within the story. I really love to ramble about this since music is my inspiration for a lot of things and the vibe of the whole premise, section of their development and perspectives.

☆ 11 : 11 by Taeyeon Introducing Furihata's little sob lol and Furi's perspective. After Furihata breaks up with his girlfriend (who again, have no significant in his life what so ever), he goes through the phase on moving forward. It really isn't him moving forward with his feelings for her though, it's just him moving forward from the familiarity of being with her in his life. With her gone, he finally reconnects with who he is, like in this passage : "However, somehow with just a fling of his bag onto the island top threw him years back. He has not always been this tidy and clean." Furihata had basically lived his life to accommodate to those around him. (I wanna stress that Furi wasn't forced into a relationship or was it abusive. It was just a relationship with someone whom Furi had no infatuation for. It just so happens she wanted to date him after the wintercup, and Furi is just like 'yea ok?' but really he didn't exactly thought it through.)

So this is where Furihata moves on from the familiarity. He cries because they dated lol, but really he's just confuse.

☆ The Sun After Washed By Spring Rain by Wang Lee Hom Exactly one year after Furi's break-up. The source of this story idea lol. Also, Furi's perspective. The title and the song is literally what it meant; the sun after the spring rain which brings in new beginnings. I present you, this passage of the story: "Instead, with an open palm, he let it collect the cold showers and let it flow out from the cups of his palm. They were chilly despite the warming sun, he looked up at the sky, and wondered what the rain would be like in other parts of the world."

☆ Reunite by Jordie Power I present you, when Akashi appeared and Furihata's crush on Akashi just awakened and go haywire LOL! In this AU, Furihata has genuine feelings for Akashi. They were long time friends, and there were even a few emphasis of their friendship through high school but because Furihata has a girlfriend and Akashi respected that (although most times, in my brain, is just Akashi crying to Kuroko LOL!)

☆ Passage by Miyano Mamoru Furihata and Akashi's similarities. The song is basically about finding yourself as you age, the experiences you go through as you age (i'm 27 and i'm still confuse lol) Even though this story focuses on Furihata a lot and little less on Akashi except for little hints here and there, Akashi was just as lost as Furihata.

Random thought (as I type this), my boyfriend had told me this before "Even though we don't need each other, and do well on our own. We have friends but it's so different. Is just something different to have someone you love around, so to an extend, I really do need you and to share everything with you, it really makes me happy." it really is something different to have someone by your side especially when you found someone. (p/s: you definitely don't need to be in a relationship to feel complete. you complete yourself okay? :3) Furi and Akashi have been in-love since high-school, they have accomplished a lot on their own but in a passage, they both felt lost and felt like something was 'empty' that was because they were still in-love, and they met each other and truly want to spend their life together and share everything.

☆ Moonlight by Miyano Mamoru Mmmmmm~ the juice. This is Akashi's perspective when he wants to romance Furihata (∗ᵕ̴᷄◡ᵕ̴᷅∗)՞ and of course, sneakily confesses to him. OH MY GOODNESS! THIS IS LITERALLY THE PART THAT I'VE BEEN DYING FOR! and wrote it sooooo many times. I wanted it steamy and a little desperate after their long pent-up-frustration unprofessed love, without making it 'explicit' kind of way. So I hope I captured it right lolol.

☆ Make Me Love You by Taeyeon Furihata's feelings towards Akashi. I was pondering on a song that would fit Furihata's pull towards Akashi and how Akashi makes him feel every time. No other songs seems to feel like then I was randomly humming to this song while I was working and this is perfect! Also, a wonderful vibe.

I think it has been emphasised a lot on how Furihata reacts to Akashi, how he blushes like crazy, how he also subconsciously wants Akashi to make him fall in love with him. Because deep down, as again, Furihata genuinely loves Akashi but he was never daring enough to do it and since Akashi had never showed any indication, so Akashi had to confess in order for Furihata to be brave enough to smack their lips together to confess too.

☆ Je Fais De Toi Mon Essentiel by Emmanuel Moire Infinitely bless @miss-cactus (and her naughty brother lol) for this! This is song is seriously sooooo beautiful ;w; I don't care if reader's don't listen to the playlist, but OH MY GOD! If nobody had listened to this, is seriously missing out. (just as a song in general is beautiful) and the lyrics are just akjsfhakjsfhaf AKASHI'S WORDS! In Akashi's perspective and the song that Akashi sang to when they were in the car, and Cactus chose the perfect line for it ;w;

This song basically concludes everything!!! From their feelings for each other since high-school and all the way until the day they die! It's basically everything I wanted this story to be about, just their pure love for one another and to share their happiness together ;w;

Also, I want to point out in regards of Furihata's decision on staying in France. It's really not just a spontaneous and reckless decision lol. As stated and shown in the story, Furihata is somewhat a successful person with a career, but Furihata has other passion and interest which he seemed to enjoy doing which is photography and Akashi notices this. Even though with a career, at a time some will have a change of heart. So if Furi wants to stay in France with Akashi, he has thought it through enough, and can afford to even live by even without Akashi's money lolol. ๑ Premises ๑ Cactus, without her, AkaFuri will be hobos. I . AM . NOT . KIDDING ! She just whip out the map of France and pin point me to everything! I didn't ask for that but her soul is made from angel clay and she showed me this beautiful town, and I am floored! I didn't feel that much motivation and inspiration before o(≧∇≦o)

So why not Paris? XD 1, I didn't want Paris, I wanted a natural, country/cottage vibe and not the city. 2, proven by Cactus, "actual paris : if you want a cup of coffee you have to give up your wife and your 2 children bc it's way too expensive" (XD actually there's more but those parts are only between us lol) 3, I want to pull Akashi from his usual portrayal of rich and luxurious life style. I mean.... he's still rich, just not lavish in that lifestyle. In here, Akashi's basically bare as a canvas, and painting it on his own. 4, I google mapped Paris.... and if anything, Akashi and Furihata will probably get run over by traffic LOLOL! 5, we hate the crowds lolol and we'd do anything to drown the citizens for AkaFuri to be alone. I'm not even gonna be discreet about this xD.

☆ Mornac-Sur-Seudre This main village, is the most beautiful town picked by Cactus. It's not so 'in the face' although not so splashed in a lot of colours (except for the oyster huts), it is a very vibrant village. We totally fell in love with it. It's quiet, and not a lot of villagers, so it's perfect for AkaFuri to have their stroll hand in hand (人 •͈ᴗ•͈) They're also very famous for their oysters LOL! So yeah..... Akashi fed Furi oysters.... because....it's yummy.... LOL! Video reference here. There's another beautiful video but I can't find it no more. ;; Other references; here, here and here.

☆ Seagull Train Furihata loves train (and so do I) and since the train exists here! WHY THE HELL NOT?! I really love writing this part! I fell in love with the department Cactus picked and everything was so perfect and beautiful. Pictures and videos of it was just so breath taking ;w; and it's a steam train! I've never ride one before, but I have been into exhibits in the train museum. The smell is amazing lol. It's like sniffing my humidifier......but bigger.

This is the train I had saw mostly from it. the 030 T 3 from 1891. It's still operational so choo-choo!!! they go!

Video reference ; here Train reference; here, here Other references; here, here, here and here.

☆ Saintes & Royan These two towns are what's closest to Mornac. I didn't have much on Royan because Saintes had a beautiful charm, so this is where they would have their wonderful date <3 and talk a little bit about their feelings.

Cactus correcting me on the description on the city as I just woke up from my sleep, is seriously a way to wake up in the morning at 5am XD LOLOL!!

There's a few churches too, and has an interesting history from the Roman empire :D really intriguing.

The bridge where they have their little confession in high-school (◡‿◡✿)

This video here, absolutely pretty!

☆ Akashi's Floristry; Fleurs d’acacia Cactus picked out the most beautiful name! "So either L’acacia (just the tree) or Fleurs d’acacia (acacia flowers)" The Acacia because it rhymes with Akashi's name : Aca - as in 'Aka' in Akashi. Ci - as in sea...because they're near the ocean. A - as in....... h(a)m because Cactus said so... and I can't even disagree because it's where Furi getting some of those..... meat....because Akashi's ham.....like his meat.......y'know..... We're very dignified ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎)

The design of Akashi's 3 story shop/studio/apartment..... I really don't have any reference, it's all in the head LOLOL! Akashi basically lives in simplicity, his shop all on the ground floor, and the second floor is his art studio where paints and do whatever he wants. Finally the third floor is where he stays, it was wasn't very detailed but it's very spacious and cozy >w<!

☆ The Drive-in theatre Bruuuuuh......the confession is the thing! Akashi sneaking in his opportunity to confess. What more is there need to be said? AkaFuri : mlemlemlemlemlemlemlemlem~

Ohh~ Akashi's pretty Bentley of course.

☆ The Landes The finale of their romance ❀.(*´◡`*)❀. I think we all know what a Volkswagen van looks like LOL! And they had the funky in the van and Akashi took Jean's advice with the bamboo charcoal.

Cactus showed this pretty place and I'm just ヽ(；▽；)ノ

Of course I'd really like to say it again. Furihata's decision to stay with Akashi was really not for the sake of a 'happy ending' or so. They've had deep feelings for each other since high-school and bonded closely, but Akashi didn't show any indication of romantic interest out of respect for Furihata's relationship, and Furihata knowing nothing about Akashi's mutual feelings just kept his feelings to himself. As told by the story, Furihata has a career and stable income. But even though his life is dandy in Tokyo with his job, that doesn't mean it's something he wants to keep pursuing or maintain, as we age, we search for something else to add into our experience. Not to say that we're forever unsatisfied, it's just how life is. We accomplish something, and we move on to another thing, and then another and another. It's really something beautiful about it, and life's just us exploring :] In Akashi and Furihata's case, is that they've already have what they wanted, a life of their own, choosing their own path and what they don't have was each other and now that they've bonded and opened up themselves, they can finally pursue another beautiful life together (>*^▽^*<)

๑ Book, Night on the Galactic Railway by Kenji Miyaza ๑ This is a real book. Also, my favourite! There is an anime as well, but if anyone wants the PDF feel free to drop me a DM and I'll give it to ya'.

In here, the story of the galactic railway impacted their lives a little bit differently. With Akashi the loss of his mother and Furihata to live the last adventure before death.

It is shown they have extreme love for this book, and it really is a beautiful book and there's just endless things to talk about, as it is place in an infinite travel of the train through the galaxy, meeting new people, seeing new things, the mysteries of stories and making meaningful relationship despite never being able to see them again.

The sentiment of Giovanni and Campanella is also similar to Akashi and Furihata. Before anything else, they want to have their adventure together before eventually parting their ways (and i really mean, until death do them apart.)

๑ Other Juices ๑ There some nitty stuff that aren't just there for show xD Well, kind of but there's some sentiments and stuff so...

☆ The Sunflower Maybe because I'm bias to sunflowers LOL! But Furihata is pretty with yellow! Sunflowers with darker brown florets are absolutely beautiful. The pendent I had in mind was literally the one I had when I was a kid (but I donno it's gone now lol). I googled other sunflower pendent but it's ugleh...

It associates with the theme of this story which is 'Sunrise' as in new beginnings, Furihata's fresh start to pursuing the person he actually loves.

Sunflowers also grow towards the sun. They radiate pure joy and positivity. They also symbolise unwavering faith and unconditional love; which is AkaFuri's undying love here despite the years.

Sunflowers are also given to show their deepest to the person, so Akashi gift him a sunflower :3 also because Furi looks pretty in yellow, fight me.

In chinese myth, sunflower are best for business... So with Furi around, Akashi's business will bloom LOLOL!

Funfact: In greek myth, a nymph named Clytie fell deeply in love Apollo, god of the sun. Although Clytie was beautiful by nymph standards, Apollo did not reciprocate her feelings, or acknowledge it. (except Akashi appreciates Furi's love okay?) After days of hopeless devotion, the nymph then transformed herself into a sunflower and constantly turned towards the sun so she could always be with the one she loved (Furihata's chasing sunrises because Akashi is there ok?).

☆ The Happy Street Cats :D This is actually a real book I have, a gift by my teacher before I leave S.Korea. The passage idiom is extracted by this page as well.

The front cover of the book is also yellow.

Yellow : Sunrise + Sunflower.

There's so much yellow in this story LOL!

☆ The Movie Cactus : Idol movie Me : *internal screaming* I swear we are always soooooooo close to making this whole thing crack XD

This scene is a real brain wreck lololol. (Still contemplating if it was romantic enough)

☆ Akashi's Florist number I extracted that number from an oyster restaurant LOLOL! Thankfully Cactus changed it.... we were planning on a crack bonus in which, Furihata orders oysters before calling Akashi.

It didn't happen. But if it did.

Furihata will order some oysters. And not regret it.

*Akashi judging*

☆ French Dialogues + Akashi teaching Furihata French Bless Cactus, she's my happiness now. I have no idea how many weird noises were coming out from our mouths just to understand how the French consonant 'R' sounds like to put it into words LOL! XD Without her, it'd be a disaster.

We were looking at other romantic phrases and found the perfect one ;w;

“Je suis ton bonheur.” means "I am your happiness" (oh god, google translate voice just keeps playing in my head LOLOL! help) Which, what else can be said? LOL Akashi's happy ok? Since this story is from Furihata's perspective, I really wanted to put him into the spot of being a foreigner (he speaks english and mandarin lolol just clueless in French, because Akashi is supposed to guide him). So while Cactus work her magic, being the Akashi to my Furihata. I tried to emphasis a lot on the characters expression etc, at least to indicate of what was going on....tbh even I forgot what they were saying. *just as clueless as Furi and Cactus cackling somewhere.

Everything in here is just Cactus being amazing ;w; and pure patience LOLOL!

๑ Side Characters ๑

☆Shérine ............ We butchered the original female side. Her name was Camille.... but I was sooo tempted to name it after *coouugh* :] because it's pretty. Also her hair was blond with hazel-green eyes.... yea we buried her.

Shérine wins now... Shérine is life.

Shérine will be in their wedding.

☆Jean Kirstein (of AOT) It's JEAN! ...........someone gotta tease Akashi with no filter.

(ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ FINAL NOTES

The last section when Furihata wakes up and makes his decision, believe it or not, I was in the bus. While typing to Cactus, I was literally shaking in the bus and my eyes stung because of dust and I was in tears. I was between crying and laughing. Finished it at home ;w; Cactus was such a darling through it all.

I really had fun writing this with Cactus ;w; she's the best!!!!!!! And hopefully we'll make some crack stuff because we're hooligans like that XD.

:D BYE!

[pvrkacciosan]

♤The NEO Chronicles♤

Part 1

Description: The NEO bloodline is said to be decendant from the gods, that is why they rule as royals in a place known as The NEO kingdom.

The bloodline has always tried to stay pure to it's blood heritage but with the next generation growing up and no NEO bloodline females being born, the king and queen turn to drastic measures which eventually landed them with not one, but four NEO female heirs, all who were gifted with abilities of the elements.

Wind, Fire, Earth and Water

But when you tip a scale one way, it always has to dip in the other direction before levelling out again.

this must happen

But at what cost?

SIDE NOTE: This is my first post on Tumblr, I have this book of wattpad as well, I apologise if this is bad...I'm not confident in my writing yet so I was debating if I should even post this but anyway...

《The Calm before the storm》

The feeling of the old book bindings brushed against her finger tips as she looked along the bookshelves for a book that could peak her interest.

Haru huffed as her fingers rap around a spine of a book's leather binding, she let out a sigh of satisfaction at the familiar feeling.

Turning around she walked further back into the vast library, She came across three elegant figure all sat upon long lounge chairs, dressed in smooth flowing dresses, one a misty grey colour, one a deep red, the other ocean blue.

One of the figures look up from her book as Haru continued her way towards them, the girl's light brown hair fell in front of her face. Brushing it back her eyes connected with Haru's.

Haru looked into the ocean blue eyes of her sister Mirae, Mirae gave Haru a kind smile as she tucked another strand of hair behind her ear.

Haru smiled back as she lowered herself down onto her own lounge chair, which was positioned across the room from her sister's, placing a hand of the arm of the chair, her fingers curling into the fabric of the chair.

She leaned back, opening the book a sigh of contentment leaving her lips. The feeling of the pages transported her into the world of green gables, with Anne and Gilbert.

Haru loved how Anne always imagined her self as a princess, oh how Haru wishes she could switch lives with the red headed girl, the book acted as an escape for Haru, it allowed her to escape all the responsibilities and expectations people had given to her as her time as one of the four NEO princesses.

The noise of someone clamping a book shut repels Haru to look up, her sisters Eui and Mirae had also looked up from their books, The oldest, Ara, sat directly across from Haru, she was now sitting up straight with her hands placed on top of a book which vacated the space on her lap.

"I must speak with you all" Ara spoke, she looked up to her sisters as she placed the book on the table which was positioned next to her lounge chair.

Haru closes her book, Mirae following suit also closes over her book, Eui had already done so, Haru watched closely as Eui closed her eyes, upon re-opening them Haru could see the red haze that usually filled them.

This was the only way Eui was able to see, if she used her other eye she could see heat signatures, unlike her three sister Eui had been gifted with fire but not with the gift of sight, and there for was partially blind.

Haru had never really asked her sister what her world looked like through her eyes, but Haru imagined it looked totally different to the one she looked at everyday.

But the fact of her sisters partial blindness was not the important topic right now, Haru looks towards Ara, Haru sits herself up preparing herself for what Ara may say.

The three youngest princesses looked to the oldest, who almost seemed lost for her words. She takes in a breath before she begins to talk.

"the king and queen" Ara said as she paused for a second, the room fell silent, Ara opened her mouth to continue with what she was saying.

"why do you address them like that?" Haru interrupted, Eui and Mirae both look to Haru

Mirae being the youngest looks uncertain of the the outcome to Haru's interruption while Eui held an emotionless expression as she looked at the floor.

"The king and queen" Ara starts again in a more demanding tone.

Haru catches Ara's glares, Haru just glares difinelty back at her, she held her chin up as she kept her gaze on her oldest sister. Haru never did understood Ara's ways.

Haru knew Ara always had trouble with impressing their parents but to go as far as using their royal titles to address them.

"Haru!, are you listening?" Ara spoke up in an attempt to gather up her younger sister's scrambled thoughts.

"what?" Haru stated raising an eyebrow at her older sister.

"I beg your pardon?" Ara quipped an even more annoyed look on her face.

"oh for the good of my sanity" Haru muttered under her breath as Ara continued to stare at her.

"Excuse me, what was that?" Ara spoke up, harshly trying to coax her sister to repeat her words.

"nothing" Haru mumbled as she turned away from Ara, Eui and Mirae both sat in silence, both refusing to make a single sound.

"As I was saying, the King and Queen have made some new arrangements" Ara started again, placing her hand back on her lap, she pulled her shoulders back as she turned towards Haru.

Haru, who refused to make eye contact with any of her three sisters had turned her head away, she looked away, towards a stacks of book waiting to be put away.

Her attention was drawn to the window, outside she could see the clear blue sky, she watched a small cluster of birds swarmed around in a group in the middle of the air moving around gracefully and with formation. They worked together, not against each other.

From where she was sat Haru could feel the light draft coming from the window. Haru's thoughts begin to drift off, like the cloud in the sky,

She reminded herself of all the countless days she would lay outside on the grass in the gardens, with only a loose fitted dress covering her slender body, though she wore the outfit much to her mother's disapproval, she found it far more comfortable than the outfits suited for the torture device know as a corset.

"They have arranged to have the five youngest princes come to fight for your hand"

Those words were like a cold slap to the face. Pulling her from her daydream, Haru whipped her head back around to the three other figures in the spacious room.

Haru scans their faces, Ara holds a hard stare, Mirae looks half confused while Eui has an emotionless expression which indicates she is probably deeply embedded in her thoughts.

"who's hand?, mine?" Haru screeches as she points a finger at her chest for emphasis. Haru sees Mirae look to Ara then to Eui, while the two oldest still have their attention fixated on Haru.

Haru takes a breath in, before she gets her words out Eui brings a hand up to silence her. Calmly Eui turns to the maid who was stationed at the door of the library.

"please could you give us a moment?" she spoke in a soft tone. " of course madam" the maid spoke obediently, she removed herself from the room as asked, the door shutting quietly behind her, closing with a click.

Haru didn't dare say anything until Eui had turned back to face her direction.

"I'M NOT GETTING MARRIED!" Haru yells placing both her hand on the seat next to her on the chair.

"Its not really up for debate, Haru" Ara adds, Eui sent a look in Ara direction.

Haru pushes herself up from her lounge chair, she moves across the room towards the window, she looked out of it, she watched as the gardens were attended by people as they moved around the hedges and great bushes of colourful flowers.

"Its not fair, I didn't get a choice" Haru uttered in a broken tone, she turned back around to face her sisters.

Ara held a stone cold look, while Eui face contorted into one of sympathy.

"we never get a choice we are princesses, choices are not in our royal duties" Ara stated, standing up from her chair to be at level with Haru.

Ara was taller then them all but that did not stop Haru from putting up a fight when one was needed, Ara did not intimidate her.

"Screw royal duties!" Haru exclaimed as she strutted her way towards the doors which exits the library.

"Haru!, don't you dare walk away" Ara commanded to the younger girl, who would not here the voice of reasons right now as she reached out for the brass door handle.

Without even looking over in Ara's direction Haru heaved the big heavy wooden door open.

She didn't even spare a second to close it properly she just let it swing open into the hall, as she thundered her way down, getting as far away from Ara and her problems as she could.

She stormed her way through the hallway, flying past the abundance of painting strung up on the walls, her shoes thudding against the wooden flooring as she walked.

Turning a corner Haru wasn't paying attention as she collided straight into another body.

Both individuals stumbled backwards, she gasped as she looked up, her eye meeting with the other person's.

Haru found herself staring into the familiar eyes of a boy she sees far too often.

"oh hello, Haru, is everything okay?" The boy asked holding a hand out for the girl, who sat sprawled out on the floor in a not so lady-like manner, reaching up she grabbed his hand, as he pulled her up from the floor.

"peachy" Haru replied sarcastically, while smoothing out the folds in her light green dress.

"oh no, Ara told you didn't she?" He questioned

"YOU KNEW?!" Haru all but yelled, the boy in question jumped at her sudden outburst.

Haru had turned to walk away when he leaned forward grabbing onto her elbow.

Haru spun to look back at him , she paused staring down at his hand which gripped her arm, the boy refused to say anything his sudden burst of confidence disappearing.

He may be one of Haru's older brothers, but out of his four sisters Haru was the one he didnt like to mess with.

Ara was always too stuck up in impressing their parents, she was too well behaved all the time, she would always thinks 'what would a queen do'.

Eui the second oldest has a more realistic and fair way of doing things, she always had to hear both sides of a story before deciding on a course of action.

Mirae the youngest out of the four was super caring and sweet, she would never hurt a fly. she was very gentle in everything she does.

Haru on the other hand has never liked to follow the orders she was given, she didn't want to grow up and become queen one day, she wanted to go out into the world and live free of all rule and expectations, her whole life she had been fighting.

Haru did wonder what her life would be like if she wasn't fighting it, she had thought about succumbing to the life she had been given, and she felt there would be a time were she grew too tired to put up a fight, but that day was not today.

"let me go Mark" Haru spoke in a calm voice, the tranquillity in her tone put Mark on edge, Haru very rarely goes from being upset to calm, Mirae often calls it "the calm before the storm"

Mark just calls it "the moment before the volcano erupts" but both phrases work the same way.

" no, come on, I wish to speak with you" Mark said, giving Haru's arm a light tug before walking off.

Next Part》

[eyreguide]

Reviews of Jane Eyre Adaptations

An overview of my thoughts on all the film and television adaptations I have seen.

Jane Eyre 1934  Virginia Bruce And Colin Clive

This is the first talkie version of “Jane Eyre” and I think has the rather unfortunate timing to have come out during the Great Depression. For that is the only reason I can think of for making the story so cheery and sweet. Gone are moral ambiguities and dilemmas. Adele is Rochester’s niece, and Rochester is in the process of divorcing his mild-mannered and slightly mad first wife. Even Mr. Rochester is charming and affable (and quite obviously in love with Jane from the start); you don’t have to work hard to like him.

Jane herself is quite spunky and has no trouble expressing anything she is feeling. I find it funny how she calls out Mr. Rochester on everything. No wonder he is pretty straightforward with her. And Jane is acknowledged to be young and pretty in the movie- interesting since so many adaptations in later years get beautiful actresses to play Jane and then pretend they are plain.

I think because this version lightens the story so much, one can’t take it too seriously as an adaptation of “Jane Eyre”.

1943 Jane Eyre   Joan Fontaine And Orson Welles

There’s a much better attempt to adapt the actual novel in this version (as compared to the 1934 film version) which makes for an interesting transition from light to dark. The 1934 film being a little too happy and this version being a little too dark. Orson Welles plays the role of Rochester with such an intensity that makes him a little intimidating. No wonder Joan Fontaine’s Jane looks like a deer caught in headlights most of the time.

The script has some interesting changes to the story that perpetuates through several movie adaptations to follow. Helen Burns has her hair cut at Lowood instead of Julia Severn in the novel, and Jane heroically demands to have her hair cut as well. Jane is more directly the cause of Mr. Rochester falling off his horse as he looms up on her and she is unfortunately in the way instead of standing quietly by the side of the road. Jane also feels she has to defend Adele and asks Rochester to treat her more kindly- something Jane never does in the novel.

Other interesting innovations to the story include a St. John Rivers who is the Doctor for Lowood, and who provides Jane with lessons of morality instead of Helen Burns. Overall, this film is fantastically moody and quite romantic, and a very good film if you aren’t too concerned about fidelity to the novel.

1949 Jane Eyre Mary Sinclair And Charlton Heston

Studio One produced this hour long episode and it was apparently filmed live, so they had one big set for the whole program. Consequently the script centers on the Thornfield section, although it does show Jane leaving Lowood. The house party consisted of just Blanche (with Jane having to play piano for their amusement!)

Mary Sinclair as Jane does not bring much to the role. She says her lines and acts smitten as needed. Charlton Heston is an aggressive and overly masculine Rochester, and he doesn’t really capture the character very well either. It doesn’t help that he tended to over do the emotion somewhat.

The story is very chopped up, obviously, and everything moves very quickly. There really isn’t much to recommend this, unless you are a big fan of the novel, and you like old movies.

1952 Jane Eyre  Katharine Bard And Kevin McCarthy

This episode was also produced by Studio One and is very similar in script and features a similar set. They seemed to have a little more money in the budget though because the staging and sets were a little better. And Mr. Rochester was able to have a larger house party, that reflected the book more.

Katharine Bard was also not very memorable as Jane. She said her lines and was just there. Kevin McCarthy had this interesting nicer vibe to him. He seemed more friendly and sweet, while also being demanding sometimes. It’s still not a great characterization though.

Again, I would not really recommend this version unless you are set on watching all adaptations (and that’s a great idea!)

1956 Jane Eyre Daphne Slater And Stanley Baker

This early six-part British miniseries is available to watch only at the BFI in London. I was pleasantly surprised by how well this version adapted the story. Slater and Baker’s interpretation of the characters is wonderful and the dialogue/script follows the general plot of the novel very well. It does veer off from the actual dialogue of the book, but in this case, I liked the changes. It captured the gist of the scenes and the character’s emotions. The only really odd moments came from some of the more emotional scenes which would have been better with Charlotte’s words.

The childhood part of the story features the actress playing adult Jane, also playing Jane as a child, which is a little jarring, but it actually worked rather well. Slater was good at capturing the essence of a child. Young Jane in this version is also much more outspoken and Helen Burns feels more like an equal to Jane - much less overly religious and self-sacrificing. It made for a different dynamic but I enjoyed how it showed Jane and Helen’s close relationship

Unfortunately feisty, young Jane becomes much more muted and easily frightened as adult Jane. Slater’s Jane is still good though, despirt her timidity and is able to hold her own against Baker’s Rochester. Baker makes an imposing, brusque and rough Rochester, but he brought some nuance and emotional depth to the character. The miniseries also does justice to St. John Rivers and shows him as very formidalbe and controlling - perhaps the most cold and disturbing I have ever seen St. John portrayed. He attempts to read a letter that Jane receives without her knowledge, and also lies to Jane that Rochester has already moved on from her.

This was a wonderful version with many scenes and moments that I did not expect to be included in so early an adaptation.

1957 Jane Eyre Joan Elam And Patrick MacNee

This adaptation is much fun. It’s just… so weird. The interpretation of the novel is so bad, it’s like the writer was making fun of “Jane Eyre.” Jane is preachy and spiritual to the extreme. She doesn’t have a care for herself but just wants to help Mr. Rochester in any way she can. Which Mr. Rochester must be glad of since she excuses his lecherous advances on her because he drinks (alot apparently) and because he has had a troubled past. But after Rochester has tried to take advantage of Jane, he does fall in love with her and it’s cute how much attention he pays to her during his house party. Which gives Blanche a chance to be ridiculously catty.

Mason also gets interesting things to do in this adaptation. He doesn’t get quietly stabbed and bitten on the third floor- no he crashes down some stairs during the house party, bleeding and terrified. A supremely Gothic moment. And when Jane agrees to marry Rochester, Mason sort of slides into view and is all ‘I don’t think so.’ Mason has some attitude. The script for the adaptation is just over the top- down to little Adele scrabbling in the ashes for a toy when Jane finds her in the end after (a really quick) fire.

For an “interesting” way of looking at the story of “Jane Eyre”, this adaptation scores high marks.

1957 Jane Eyre (Italian) Ilaria Occhini And Raf Vallone

This adaptation is in Italian, and the copy I have has no subtitles, so I’m reviewing this with only the acting and the gist of the scenes to go by.

This is a 5 part adaptation (oddly each episode is not quite the same length) and it begins with Jane meeting Mr. Rochester by felling his horse. From there, Jane’s childhood is told through some flashbacks. Some of the more interesting adaptation choices this version makes is to have Jane much older when she finally leaves the Reeds house. And a new sort of character is introduced - by the name of Jack Lloyd. He seems to be a combination of John Reed and St. John, in that he is Jane’s cousin on the Reed’s side (maybe?) and is in love with Jane from the beginning. While the first episode mostly deals with Jane’s childhood, we still get scenes in the next three episodes to what the Reeds are doing and especially Jack Lloyd. Jack also turns up at Thornfield to take Jane away to visit sick Mrs. Reed. I was very entertained by what seemed to be Mr. Rochester’s jealousy over Jack! Another interesting thing about this script is that Mr. Rochester hires a gypsy and listens in on the readings she gives (just like in the 2006 miniseries). And then, he comes out to comfort Jane because she has become distressed.

The feel of this adaptation is very dramatic, there is an emphasis on Gothic elements (forbidden rooms, screams, portentous secretive glances) and the audience sees things from Bertha’s point of view a couple times, as she wanders Thornfield’s halls. Jane and Rochester are smitten with each other very quickly. I found it funny how often they stare at each other as if there was no one else in the room. (Sometimes there was.) Jane can seem a bit moony, and Mr. Rochester has a few mood swings. He can seem really nice one minute and then suddenly speak very sharply. This adaptation is a bit slow, and takes some interesting liberties with the story, but I found it very entertaining and romantic. And Mr. Rochester regains his sight in a dramatic moment in the end during the wedding. A nice dramatic wrap-up.

1961 Jane Eyre Sally Ann Howes And Zachary Scott

This one-hour television production for “Family Classics” was introduced by Joan Fontaine which was a nice surprise. Opening credits start with Grace Poole getting herself some alcohol. Mr. Rochester’s entrance is not quite as dramatic- he is sitting in a chair in the darkened library when Jane goes down to get a book and he startles her when he speaks. I actually really liked this adaptation. Sally Ann Howes was again serviceable as Jane, nothing special in her interpretation. Zachary Scott as Rochester brought something different to the role as compared to the previous American hour-long television productions. His Rochester was more aristocratic in ways, he sometimes- and very vaguely!- put me in mind of Dracula. Not that he was vampiric, just in the way he carried himself. And maybe because he was dark and thin.

The script manages to include a “Rivers” section where Jane actually gets a proposal from St. John- something that hasn’t happened in the previous film adaptations I have seen. And St. John is rather egregious and plump- not very like the Apollo of the book. And if I’m not mistaken, this is also the first time they flash back to Thornfield burning down while Jane is away- breaking up the Rivers section with a scene with Rochester.

If I had to pick the best of the American hour-long productions, I would pick this one. Which is viewable free at the Paley Center in Los Angeles and New York.

1970 Jane Eyre Susannah York And George C. Scott

I feel that this version is the first to approach the story of “Jane Eyre” as it is, rather than as a dramatic rendering. It’s somber and dreamy and pretty straightforward in portraying the scenes. Not that the characterizations are all correct. Susannah York’s Jane is mature- reflective of the actress’s age undoubtedly, and George C. Scott is curiously cold and dry most of the time. St. John Rivers is surprisingly passionate and eager to marry Jane even though he still doesn’t love her.

The production benefits from location shooting (first version to shoot on the moors?), and wonderful music which goes a long way to filling in the passion and romance that is lacking in the actors. Much attention is paid to the character of Helen Burns here which is a plus- the audience really gets to see how Helen helped Jane to grow. The script in itself is okay, until the blundering line of Rochester’s “But I loved her once, as I love you now.” when Rochester has shown Bertha to Jane and the wedding party. I find that line basically undermines Rochester’s love for Jane. It is important to understand that Rochester did not love Bertha at all so then Rochester doesn’t seem so much like a jerk.

Well. This version has some issues, but to see it after the previous versions, it is a breath of fresh air because it comes closer to recreating the novel proper.

1972 Jane Eyre (Czech) Marta Vancurova And Jan Kačer

I have not re-watched this version in a long time, so this review is very brief:

A friend was able to find this rather obscure adaptation made in 1972 Czechoslovakia. The copy she found is in Czech with no subtitles, so I can’t understand a word of it. However, I will comment on the overall tone that I received from the four hour adaptation- melancholy and artsy (perhaps reflective of a low budget). Not as much passion to certain scenes as one would expect, but I did enjoy this adaptation and they did a good job with condensing the material. Except for the Lowood portion of the story, which they cut out.

1973 Jane Eyre Sorcha Cusack And Michael Jayston

This is the best version of Jane Eyre to date. I wouldn’t say there was an overall tone for the miniseries- it comes off as a straightforward interpretation of the novel. Production values are lacking in that set design and blocking are less than inspired, but it does have great costumes and outdoor sets. There are really just two reasons why this is the best version in my opinion. Script and characterization. The script uses much of the novel’s dialogue (finally!!), and sometimes brings out interesting elements of humor that one might not have noticed before. And I feel like Jane Eyre has many funny moments or comments that are mostly overlooked in other adaptations. And in condensing the material they kept so much of the story intact it’s surprising. I am only disappointed by how they shortened the Gypsy scene by having Jane discover Rochester too quickly. But every other important scene is done beautifully.

As for the actors, I am only disappointed in Juliet Whaley’s Young Jane, whose acting is stilted sometimes, but she was young. Sorcha Cusack portrays a nice blend of shyness and independence and Michael Jayston is superb as Rochester. His performance is nuanced and mesmerizing. Stephanie Beacham is probably the best Blanche I have ever seen as well- she comes off as snobbish and selfish but I can see how she might be captivating and charming to men.

There is not much else I can say about this, my favorite adaptation. I think every one who is a fan of the novel should see this version.

1983 Jane Eyre Zelah Clarke And Timothy Dalton

Another mini-series adaptation, this version had a bigger budget it seems than the 1973 version. Set design and lighting are improved, and the show even got it’s own theme! The show was also 30 minutes long per episode which gave a different, more leisurely pace to the scenes. It seems like they wanted to make sure each episode ended on a little cliff-hanger. But with the pace slower, it sometimes felt like the actors were speaking too slow. There were long (introspective?) pauses and they even broke up scenes with time lapses and set changes. The proposal scene for instance starts in the library and Jane runs out to be alone in the garden.

As an adaptation of the novel, this is the second best film version because it has so much time to give to telling the story. Zelah Clarke as Jane is a little monotone sometimes, but she does a good job showing Jane’s spirited side. Timothy Dalton’s Rochester is imperious and masterly, and very charming. The script has a proper charades scene and Rosamond Oliver makes her first appearance in this adaptation. They also show an older Eliza and Georgiana which is another first.

Overall, this version is very good and is only ranked behind Jane Eyre 1973 because of dialogue/script changes and characterization.

1996 Jane Eyre Charlotte Gainsboroug And William Hurt

This version takes a fresh look at the novel. The flow of the narrative is different- much faster in pace, so that some scenes happen quickly right after the other- giving time no doubt to show the more leisurely and melancholy scenes of Jane and Rochester alone. During Brocklehurt’s first visit to the Reeds, he immediately takes Jane away to Lowood, and there is a quick transition from Helen Burns dying to older Jane by her graveside then walking to take the coach to Thornfield. And as soon as Jane flees from Rochester and a bigamous marriage, Thornfield is on fire and the audience knows that Rochester has been injured before we know what has happened to Jane.

The overall tone of the movie emphasizes Jane and Rochester’s loneliness, which makes the film very poignant. Any “supernatural” elements to the story is minimized- Mr. Rochester does not loom up on Jane, but passes her by and then slips on ice (like in the book), and Bertha’s madness has a touch more realism and sympathy when she pushes Grace Poole to her death and then jumps after her. And again, Jane does not hear Mr. Rochester’s voice calling to her (though there is that one instance where maybe you could hear him whispering her name on the winds?) but instead she looks into her heart and knows she must go back and find out what happened to him. Even the Rivers aren’t her cousins, but just happened to be taking care of Mrs. Reed, and eventually of her effects.

This is a beautiful film- great sets, locations, vistas. The music is beautiful and haunting. Despite the truncated adaptation and the one-sided portrayal of Rochester, I really enjoyed this film. Especially for the pathos of Jane and Rochester’s romance.

1997 Jane Eyre   Samantha Morton And Ciaran Hinds

Truthfully, I dislike this version. It makes me laugh though, because I don’t understand how they could have gotten so many things wrong. The script is awful, Ciaran Hinds is horrible as Rochester, and Samantha Morton is a little annoying. Though that is probably the script. So let’s start there. We have your average truncated adaptation which makes sense- they cut things that most shorter film adaptations cut, but the dialogue! It’s too modern and direct. Jane addresses Rochester in a way that is not in keeping with her sense of propriety. Of course Rochester doesn’t hold much with formal conversations with Jane in the book, but his conversation in this film has none of the poetic prose of the novel. It’s all very cliched and off-putting.

Since Grace Poole is made a much bigger mystery in this version than in previous ones- Jane’s eagerness to rehabilitate her make sense, but is an unnecessary addition to the plot. Especially as Jane keeps harping on what Grace Poole is doing. Ciaran Hinds as Rochester is shouty and brutish and especially distasteful after the failed wedding. He throws Jane’s luggage down to the first floor and drags her to the garden, blaming her for not loving him enough to be his mistress. The only time I liked Samantha and Ciaran’s chemistry was after the fire in Rochester’s bedroom, when he took her hand. After that it was too much panting and open-mouthed kissing. Yikes.

The only scene that was enjoyable was when Jane comes back from visiting Mrs. Reed (curious how they lead up to that scene, but did not show her with Mrs. Reed at all) and Mr. Rochester is happy/annoyed at seeing Jane walking into Thornfield. It was a cute scene. Other than that, I wouldn’t really recommend this if you wanted a romantic version.

2006 Jane Eyre   Ruth Wilson And Toby Stephens

Another BBC mini-series of which I always expect alot. In some ways this adaptation delivered and in others it fell short. Production values were excellent of course. Ruth Wilson as Jane was a revelation. I’ve always thought it was hard to portray Jane’s inner emotions as detailed in the novel but Ruth manages to make her thoughts visible facially. Voiceovers were really not necessary. She’s just so good and so nuanced, well-rounded, I loved her portrayal of Jane. There are a couple of scenes in this version that have never been previously adapted. Namely the “carriage scene” when Rochester takes Jane to Millcote to buy dresses. The carriage scene dialogue with Adele in tow is so cute and playful and shows a wonderful side to all three characters. There is also the scene where Jane runs out in the rain to catch up to Mr. Rochester the night before their wedding. The dream sequence also makes it in- with Jane holding a baby while being kept away from Rochester. All scenes that I very much enjoyed watching.

Disappointingly, the script in general didn’t quite capture “Jane Eyre” in my opinion. The dialogue and changes to Mr. Rochester’s character specifically did not feel right. And of course there is THAT scene on the bed that really felt out of place for the story and for Jane’s principles. And why does Mr. Rochester hire a gypsy to trick Jane? It seems like there’s an attempt to minimize some theatrical elements (Rochester cross-dressing, the voice across the moors- now scientifically explained!) to maximize on other theatrical elements (dream sequences, Rochester’s bed on fire- which looked like a pyre, and the terrifying secret in the attic). There really doesn’t seem to be much point to emphasizing one and not the other.

Mr. Rochester often seemed a little immature, too boyish maybe, in his eagerness to collect dead insects maybe? I never really felt that Toby Stephens captured Mr. Rochester’s sophistication. The efforts to increase the sexual tension did not improve my opinion of Rochester, because Rochester getting Jane into bed was just a low blow. For the most part, I’d watch this version for Ruth Wilson and some of the humor and playfulness they put into the story.

2011 Jane Eyre Mia Wasikowska And Michael Fassbender

This version is a complete and refreshing surprise. Judging from the trailer, I thought it would be melodramatic in the extreme with an emphasis on the darker Gothic elements, but nothing could be further from the truth. The set design, lighting, and camera choices could be seen as dark, but they are also realistic to the times and what seems to be the vision of the director, Cary Fukunaga. Which appears to be to present the story of Jane as she lived it, completely tuned in to her thoughts and feelings. A very refreshing idea. Many versions have added or filmed sequences of the story in which Jane did not participate- for example, Thornfield burning down or scenes between Blanche and Rochester, but the story stays with Jane practically the whole way through, with camera angles highlighting that the audience is experiencing everything through Jane. This really changed the experience of viewing the movie- it felt real and not like a spectacle.

The script helps alot in this, it condenses the story but stays true to every part of it. Even with the narrative structure changed, it still hit all the important scenes, and stayed true to even the lesser characters in the story. It is surprising what scenes are not included in the movie- for instance the tearing of the veil- so that the focus of the story is more on Jane and Rochester’s relationship but even with that the more Gothic elements are not completely marginalized. There is still a sense of things not being quite right.

Mia Wasikowska as Jane is excellent; strong and intelligent, and fantastic at conveying her inner emotions through body language. One of the many things I loved in this version are all the shots of Jane walking/pacing restlessly. Mia somehow conveys that there is “a vivid, restless, resolute captive” inside of her. Michael Fassbender is commanding and sardonic and tender and teasing, sometimes all at once and sometimes flipping between the emotions at will- quite amazing to watch. He can be so intense that you are a little afraid of him and then so pleading and desperate that your heart breaks for him.

The movie was understated and simple and more powerfully emotional because of it. Personally, this would be my second favorite adaptation after the 1973 mini-series. Despite the inevitable condensing of the story, and an ending that felt a bit abrupt, it was so refreshing to watch a version that did not overplay the story and kept the focus on Jane.

2013-14 The Autobiography of Jane Eyre Alysson Hall And Adam J. Wright

This web series has Jane, a 21 year old university student, working as a nanny for Mr. Rochester’s daughter Adele. She vlogs about her life, and through the videos we get to meet all the people in her life.

I was really impressed by how close they stuck to the novel - adapting scenes that are often disregarded in other adaptations (granted they have a lot more time with this series) but also to make some scenes from the book modern must have been a great challenge. And I was really mostly happy with how they managed to make everything fit in their world.

I do have some issues with this as an adaptation though. Sometimes I lose focus on what some episodes are trying to adapt from the novel - it doesn’t always flow well for me, and I had an issue with Jane taping people in the beginning without their consent. I mean she can accidentally leave the camera on, but she doesn’t have to post it. But the reason why that bothers me is because Jane is supposed to have better sense than that. She can be a bit naive, but she always knows what’s right and wrong. But then again, it is difficult to adapt this kind of story! The audience would want to see these people!

The actors were all really excellent in their parts. Jane of course was so endearing and quirky - definitely different from Jane in the book, but believably the modern version. Mr. Rochester had a wonderful sense of humor and it was evident from the beginning how much he cared about Jane. Their romance was so sweet and developed very well throughout the videos. The Rivers were also believable surprisingly - I mean especially when it came to the St. John character - now called Simon. St. John in the book would be very difficult to modernize I think - because he’s so zealous and religious, selfless but selfish. They made Simon a little bit too dorky and cute, but he was also stubborn and unsympathetic to others which fit. There were some changes made when it comes to Grace that made the story work very well, and a new character - Suzana - would often steal the show with her sassiness.

It is disappointing that towards the end they had to recast the actor who played Rochester which leads to a sort of rushed and incomplete ending. I think they did the best they could, but for a series that has done such a wonderful job bringing so much of Jane Eyre to life, it’s unfortunate they left out so much of the ending.

This adaptation had it’s ups and downs for me, but I always felt there was a lot of love for this book in every episode, and the writing and the story planning was often exceptional in adapting the book. I was always happy to get a new episode and it was such a great experience getting a little dose of Jane’s story every week.

2000 Jane Eyre the Musical Marla Schaffel And James Barbour

Okay, the musical. This is the Paul Gordon version. I’ve seen SO MANY comments bashing the musical by people who have never really listened to it just because it’s “Jane Eyre” with singing, and “Jane Eyre” shouldn’t be a musical (OMG!). I have to say I was never a fan of musicals before listening to this version. (Except for “The Sound of Music” which…is a little bit like “Jane Eyre” isn’t it?) At any rate, it took awhile for me to come to grips with all the singing, so I can understand where people may come from but I hope that at least some of the people who turn their backs on this musical might actually like it if they really listened to it.

I do love this musical. I think adding music to the already lyrical text heightens the emotion of the story and can very easily put you into the mindset of each of the characters. The ability of Paul Gordon to work in actual text from the novel into the lyrics is amazing as well (something I come to realize even more as I listen to other Jane Eyre muscials). In terms of condensing the story, all the major scenes are there for the most part, and without too many additions. I love that they even have Rochester as the Gypsy which is rarely done in Janian adaptations. The tone of the whole show is somber- in set design and music, but there are moments of humour- with Mrs. Fairfax most often bringing in the comic relief.

Marla Schaffel is marvelously grounded as Jane- her characterization is balanced between propriety and passion- something that is hard to do in a straight production, but when Jane can sing in privacy, it can all come out. :) James Barbour is commanding as Rochester (and not only because of his voice, which is a glorious baritone). His performance is more layered than many Rochesters I have seen, having a certain finesse or gracefulness while also being gruff and abrupt. The other characters are mostly spot on with the exception of Mrs. Fairfax (played by Mary Stout) who plays her good-natured but a bit doddering. And St. John Rivers is not quite the jerk he is in the novel. Though he still doesn’t love Jane when he asks her to marry him.

1952 Sangdil Madhubala And Dilip Kumar

I have not re-watched this version in a long time, so this review is very brief: An Indian film released in 1952. Whether or not this film is an adaptation of the novel is perhaps debatable. The setting is completely changed to India and there are changes to the story reflecting Indian culture. Yet, the basic story of Jane Eyre is there and many scenes are taken from the novel- notably the Gypsy scene (with Shakur impersonating a male astrologer) In my opinion this is a very enjoyable representation of the novel. Kamal is played with a strong moral sense, shyness and innocence. Shankar is admirably played with much angst and playfulness.

[sugarcoated-eloquence]

Foreboding (Targets: Part 2)

A/N: Hello, hello! Welcome to the shitshow, aka my blog. This is part two of a potential 4/5 part series that I am co-writing with the lovely @sweetestrequiems. Click here for Part 1. Each chapter is focused on a different queen or issue related to the queens. This specific chapter is Catherine Parr centric, but the other queens are all very present. 

Please note the following ships are canon in this fic’s universe: Parrlyn, Aramour

{Trigger warnings: anxiety, mention of blood, slight violence}

I should also note some passages are written in German and Spanish and should be google searched to better comprehend the story. 

Taglist: @sweetestrequiems, @theatergirl06, @silverpetals97, @six-fragile-dreams, @patdfobmcr-yt, @frogs-in-clogs, @mindless-pidgeon

Other than that..... enjoy! Below the cut.

It would not stop.

The constant feeling like something would go wrong.

Katherine Howard could not tell if it was the anxiety, or if it was something else. She physically felt okay, and everything seemed fine, but for the life of her, the girl could not put her finger on that bad feeling. Being so lost in her thoughts, Howard was found, brows furrowed, staring down at her food, rather than eating it. Of course, this raised concerns with her cousin, Anne Boleyn, and Jane Seymour. Boleyn’s face began to reflect the concern when she raised an eyebrow. Seymour had more of a sad-looking face, but nonetheless, the worry was quite present.

“Katherine?”

“Hey, Kitty… you okay?”

The two voices snapped Howard out of her trance. She looked up, shaking her head seconds after her attention went to the two women. “Yeah, yeah! Just had something come across my mind is all. I’m fine, really. Guess I’m just getting the typical pre-show jitters everyone gets,” which wasn’t a lie, either. But, Katherine did feel a pang of guilt in having to be dishonest with Jane and Anne. Howard was one of the Queens who always got some pre-show anxiety, alongside Catherine of Aragon– (much to everyone’s surprise)– and Boleyn. It wasn’t a rare occasion, though, considering they had just about an hour before they had to head to the theatre. It wouldn’t seem like much now, but this feeling Katherine Howard was having was not a good one.

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During the matinee, Katherine could not shake off that constant thought.

But she was not alone. The feeling had begun to haunt her cousin Anne.

Anne Boleyn’s eyes began to glance around the audience, knowing that Katherine was in the middle of delivering the roast of the century to Jane, Catherine Parr, and Anna of Cleves. A certain man had caught her eye up in the upper level; the second row in the left Circle Slip of the Arts Theatre, to be more precise. Something about that blond hair. And cold, blue eyes. Something about the way he was leaning on the railing while he sat began to bother Anne. Her attention snapped right back to the show when she heard Katherine say, “I can’t even begin to think of how I could compete with you all. Oh wait, like this!” to signal the start of All You Wanna Do. But even with her focus on the show, Boleyn’s glances kept going back up to that strange man.

“I think we can all agree I’m the ten amongst these threes!”

What about him bothered Anne Boleyn so much? She did not know. 

Was it his face? No, he seemed to be fairly attractive. Was it the way he stared at all of them? Possibly, since he seemed to be rather uncomfortable when Aragon brought up Leviticus and Mary in No Way. He also looked disgusted during Boleyn’s spotlight in Don’t Lose Ur Head. He looked very, very abhorred with Haus of Holbein and Anna of Cleves. But his eyes when Katherine Howard was singing screamed danger, and Anne could see it. Her frequent glancing that first day saw him tense up upon a few lines:

“Tall, large, Henry the Eighth. 

Supreme Head of the Church of England. 

Globally revered, although you wouldn’t know it from the look of that beard.”

And the end of All You Wanna Do, as far as Anne could tell from where she was on the stage, had him gripping the railing tightly. Was anger the reason he furrowed his eyebrows, or something else? The distance was not helping her much. Overall, she was picking up a few assumptions just from the one matinee show. This guy was either a historian that pretty much agreed with Henry VIII’s horrible decisions in life, or someone the Queens knew personally. What Anne decided to think though, was the former. Maybe this guy was just a historian and unimpressed with the show, right?

That first show could have not ended sooner. But as the lights on the stage went somewhat dim to allow the six ladies to exit, Anne Boleyn paused and allowed the others to go in front of her. She kept her gaze on that very man, and watched him stand up, turn around, and head on out of the seating area. The fact that she was the last one to leave concerned Cleves a bit. Right before she could even reach the dressing room, the queen in red put a hand on the green queen’s shoulder. “Moment mal, Anne. Was stört dich? Du hast anscheinend nicht dein gewohntes Lächeln am Ende der Show gehabt,” the German gently gave the shoulder a squeeze. Boleyn found herself sighing. “What’s going on? You normally smile and you were barely holding one up today by the end of the show,” Cleves made herself translate what she had previously said. 

“I don’t know, honestly. I guess I thought I saw someone that Maggie knew in the audience. It was weird. I’m normally not out of it either. Anyways, if Aragon took the couch, she’s going to regret it. It’s my nap time,” the cheeky grin came back to the ruby lips. A nod from Cleves, and the two were well on their way to the dressing room. Was Aragon on the couch? Absolutely. And Anne 100% kicked her off of it just so she could lay down and sleep after she changed back into her comfortable clothes. No space buns, no makeup– just a giant hoodie and some sweatpants. 

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The other dressing room was a little more lively for a good while.

Katherine Howard was up on her feet, bouncing around with energy. Catherine Parr had decided to join her this afternoon. What were the two doing while Jane Seymour took the time to answer some tweets and messages? Dancing. The two ladies were dancing, which was almost the catalyst for Jane setting her phone down and joining them. In fact, she just wanted in on the fun. The three danced around for maybe half an hour, before a yawning Katherine Howard took to the couch to take a nap herself. Parr and Seymour stayed awake, with Parr looking for her notebook and Seymour going back to the tweets and messages.

“Cathy, look at this,” tapping her counterpart on the shoulder, the blonde woman moved her phone to be between them both. “It’s us with our kids!” If there was one thing Jane Seymour loved about the fans they had, it was all of the fanart of them with their kids. A smile was brought to Catherine Parr’s face as she looked up to meet Jane’s eyes. “If there’s one thing I have always appreciated, it’s that they know we aren’t the only Tudors that kicked some serious ass.” The laugh both of them shared was quiet, as to not wake Katherine up from her post-show nap. 

The calligraphy pen twirled around Parr’s fingers for a solid minute or so before she finally began to write. Each queen had their thing to do post-matinee if it was a two-show day.

Catherine Parr wrote notes about her performances.

Jane Seymour responded to fans. And to as many of them as possible, too!

Both of the Beheaded Cousins slept their time away.

Anna of Cleves did various things, such as meditate and listen to music.

Catherine of Aragon normally left the dressing room to find a quiet spot in the theatre’s backstage to pray.

This normal routine was going to be shaken up a little too much. So much that Boleyn and Howard were too tense to take their usual between show naps.

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The same seat every damn time.

Who the hell was this guy?

And why was he now looking so bitter towards Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard?

Three weeks since the mystery man had first caught Boleyn’s eyes in the middle of a performance. But now it was a pattern. Two night shows and a matinee, and always on the exact same nights. Exact same seat, exact same everything. This was starting to piss Boleyn off, and scare Howard. He looked at them with more than just malicious intent in his eyes, to the point that Katherine sometimes blanked on her lines. It was to the point when Anne was singing, she’d put more emphasis on “Hold up, let me tell you how it went down.” just to spite him. This historian guy, or whoever he truly was, did not settle well with the cousins.

But on the night of a Sunday performance, the Queens all got a rude awakening they were not ready for. And the two to be given the first wave were none other than the Beheaded Cousins themselves:

Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard.

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This tension was so chilling that it even caused Anne to fumble a few of her lines. Even the infamous “Yeah, I read.” was not the usual confident, snarky remark it usually was. Having made eye contact with the mystery man while trying to deliver the line was definitely part of it, and for a moment there was a stiff awkwardness in the air. They’d recover quickly, of course, but the general consensus between the group was that something was wrong, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

The man quickly left, before the end of bows, and somehow located an usher and told him he was an old friend of the girls’. The girls weren’t too akin to refusing to meet people, so immediately after stagedooring and meeting fans, they all headed backstage to meet whoever had requested a personal meet and greet. Kit’s the first through the door and she stops dead in her tracks. Those eyes. They were the same bright blue eyes that she saw in her dreams at night, the same eyes she stared into right before… well… 

She swallows, backing up a little. Anne comes crashing through the door, chaos embodied, and happily dances around for a moment before noticing the anxiety seething from Howard’s small frame. “What’s wrong, love?” Kit simply points to the man, and Anne’s heart drops to her stomach as well. She too, can’t look away from those crystal eyes. The blond hair. The everything. 

Anne can barely talk above a whisper could even tell it was him would make the situation less real. Maybe it wasn’t, maybe he was just another person. One can hope, but no luck there, Anne. She can feel Kit shaking, and reaches to take her hand, letting out a shaky breath and considering shouting for Parr. 

The others trickle in quickly after, the ‘mystery man’ still just staring at the two cousins with ferocious intensity. The last to enter, though, is Jane Seymour. The metaphorical mother of the group, the caretaker, any other synonym you can think of. Jane is never one to cast judgement. She walks in, and despite the obvious tension, says a polite hello to the man. He simply nods in response. 

Parr joins Anne at the hip, whispering to her. “Is he what’s got you all rattled, love?” Anne lets out a small nod. “It’s him.” 

That statement reaches Jane’s ears and immediately her demeanor changes. She stands up a little straighter, setting her microphone down on the dressing room’s main table, and just looks at him. She moves a little closer, pushing the other girls behind her, and she can only say one thing. 

“...Henry?”

He steps forward, and while the other girls move back, Jane stays planted to her spot. He smiles, trying to turn on the charm, reaching for her hands. “The one I truly lov—” He’s cut off by a slap. Yes, Jane Seymour just slapped a man. He brings a hand up to his red cheek, eye showing that it indeed, hurt. Cleves stifles a laugh.

“Don’t ever associate that word with me. You don’t know what love is.” A few tears well up in the blonde’s eyes, but refuses to let them fall. Not for him. “Love isn’t keeping your wife from holding her newborn child!” Her voice breaks slightly, but she takes a deep breath, centering herself. 

“You all look so different.” The scruffy voice chimes, and immediately Kit visibly tenses up. She, unlike Jane, is unable to hold the tears in. Though they flow silently, they flow heavily. “There’s no need to cry, Katherine… or should I say ‘Kitty’, now?” 

“Don’t speak to her. You do not have permission to do that.” Jane moves to block his view, but he simply repositions himself. Anne elects to go in for a dig. The devilish smirk returns, though small, and she gives Kit’s hand a squeeze before moving a tiny step forward. 

“You know, mate, if you’re still having trouble… you know, with your little friend, we can get you a prescription for Viagra. Or Cialis, plenty of options.” She emphasizes ‘little’ by using her thumb and pointer finger to indicate his size. It makes Kit smile a little. The silence in the air was broken by a stifled laughter. That had to be the funniest thing Cleves ever heard Boleyn say outside of the wit written in the script. Aragon gave her a nudge, but even she agreed with the sentiment.

The blond man, finally revealed as the reincarnated Henry VIII, just narrowed his eyes. “How funny, laughter coming from someone who couldn’t perform.” Anne’s smirk went away, as she looked back towards Cleves with a hurt expression. Cleves’ grin was gone, with gritted teeth behind a closed mouth replacing it. Aragon let out a sigh. “That’s low for the man who so easily says he believes–”

“Catalina, don’t even get me started on you either.”

Not a single comment from Catherine Parr. She just stood there, feeling herself drift between a rational mind and pure impulse. Did this guy just come back to insult them, and get a second wind to take Katherine? Oh no, that was not happening. She saw it all, too. Jane’s reddening face from holding back the tears, Cleves’ rather tame anger, Aragon’s scowl… Kit’s pale face from the fear, and Anne being powerless. Jane Seymour honestly, had lost her mind way before Catherine Parr did in this scenario, but… there was always going to be a breaking point for the quiet one.

“So you and your whore cousin think you can just slander my name like that? I’d have you both back at the scaffold in front of the Tower if I had–”

“Scaffolds don’t exist anymore, you twat,” Boleyn hissed under her breath. 

“Enough, Henry.”

This was where Parr had enough. The other Queens gave a glance at their surviving counterpart, who wasn’t even looking up at him. She was staring at the floor, but for now. “Cathy, you should probably not… y’know, say anything,” Boleyn barely managed to get that sentence out, considering the crushing feeling she had inside of her chest. All that got as a response was a laugh.

“The survivor, Catherine Parr. Tell me then, my love, are you just as stubborn as you were back then?” He got every other one to crack, but little did he know that he would be the one about to shatter like glass. “Because you should’ve been the one to meet an untimely fate like your counterparts here. Of course, new body means a second chance at being able to–”

Henry stops when he sees Parr’s shoulders shake a little. She’s… laughing?

That’s why she was looking down. When she did look up, one saw her smile shining on like a light. Safe to say, Catherine Parr was about to tear someone apart. “You’ve still got quite a loud mouth for an old man. Tell me, did you ever finally learn to take care of yourself, you bobolyne? Thinking you have any right to talk to the mother of not only your damned son, but also the woman who was loyal to you for twenty four years?! And even better, the one you so graciously called your sister after your marriage? You’ve got to be kidding me right now.”

Jane felt a little insulted that she had to take a jab at Edward, but had the feeling it was necessary considering the situation. Hopefully Parr would apologize for it later on.

“Okay, okay… fair. Not bad, Parr. But why do those two get to wear shiny chokers while the rest of you have crowns? Does it further emphasize my point that Anne Boleyn’s just a hell of a tempting woman and that Katherine Howard–”

The smile from Parr’s face faded. The anger was present and everyone was mortified to see someone so quiet speaking up like she was. With vitriol in her voice, Catherine Parr officially lost her temper. 

“You KNOW exactly what the fuck happened, Henry.”

Aragon felt herself go to cover Katherine’s ears as her goddaughter began to lose her composure. “You KNOW why they have to wear those. You know damn well the crimes you fucking committed against them both, especially Katherine! She was a child, Henry! A fucking child who got manipulated and used! I want to hear nothing from your mouth, you snoutband! You have nothing to defend yourself with!”

Wiping a tear or two away, Jane Seymour began to lean into Anna of Cleves for some form of comfort. Even the German was surprised to be hearing the resentment coming out of such a powerful and rather cool-tempered woman. Just as Henry went to open his mouth, he stopped.

“Oh no, no sir! You have no right to talk here! Anne Boleyn lost her head over what, your delusions that she was out and about with men when you were just going around like you weren’t married? And because of that, she has to struggle to change her name? Are you actually insane or some shit?” The northern accent Parr had was thick. She was angry, and her voice said it for her if her facial expression did not. “Jane Seymour never got to hold Edward because you took him straight away for his christening. And she had to sit there, alone, in bed! Suffering through illness until she died without saying goodbye to her baby boy!”

Boleyn goes pale. Where did this anger even come from? She had no idea, but Parr was scaring her.

“My damn godmother was near a saint with all of the bullshit she had to put up with! Twenty four fucking years, and it wasn’t Anne who ruined the marriage. It was YOU. Aragon did some insanely remarkable things despite how you treated her! And Cleves! You just decide to take Cleves and humiliate her because she wasn’t beautiful enough for you? You’re an absolute wandought, Henry! You brought a Spanish lady and a German lady out of their comfort zones all because you didn’t know how to use your damn brain!”

At this point, Aragon had managed to sneak off into the dressing room, with Cleves now being the one to hold Howard. Boleyn was now hugging Seymour, actually terrified of not just Henry, but Parr.

Henry began to go pale. He was not going to recover from this.

“Who am I missing… let’s see, Katherine Howard? No, I got her. Anne Boleyn? Also got her. Jane Seymour? Check. Anna of Cleves? Check. Catherine of Aragon? Oh, yeah, her too. Would you look at that… I’m the only one left. Surprise surprise, the fucking survivor surviving again and this time, she gets to give it to you the exact way she wants to.”

“Cathy–”

“Shut up you lot. My turn to finally talk.”

A flinch from the group. Aragon had to take glances in and out of the dressing room.

“Oh wow, Catherine Parr. The survivor. The one who draws lines in arbitrary places, blah blah! She had two other husbands, what good could have she done being a Tudor queen? I DIDN’T TAKE ANY OF YOUR BULLSHIT IS WHAT I DID. Those books that everyone rumoured a woman was writing? Surprise, you tallowcatch! It was me! I’m the famed author of Tudor history. And I published under my own name once your pitiful body finally died. That can’t be that bad, Cathy. What a sad excuse for a sob story, right?”

Katherine Howard began to tremble more than she already was in Anna of Cleves’ arms. Catherine Parr made herself stand face to face with Henry.

“Ah, right, because she survived she deserves the backing vocals. WELL GUESS WHAT, HENRY? I’M HERE TO STAY. I HAD TO GIVE UP MY LIFE, MY LOVE, AND WHATEVER ELSE I WAS DOING TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR SORRY ASS. You might have forced these women into submission but no, I am not going to submit to some sad old man. You took away their rights, you took away their children… and poor Katherine…” A laugh. “You took poor Katherine’s childhood. You turned her into a disgraced whore. She is not and will never be one. She is a victim of your bullshit.”

“Catherine, my love–”

“No excuses now, Henry. I’m through. Your love ran cold years ago. And call me love one more damn time. See what happens.”

“My love–”

The weight of the sleeves helped Parr send her fist flying into his face. He stumbled back, feeling a warm sensation drip from his nose. Blood. He… was bleeding? “You actually got the nerve to punch an English King? You’re a mad woman, Parr. I’ll have you thrown on that scaffold just how–” A second punch, and this time, there was an audible crack of sorts.

“You wear a crown, but you’re no king. You’re a disgrace to human life, Henry. And this is for all of the women you hurt, manipulated, abused… and killed,” a lunge forward. The third strike was to his jaw, and the fourth was a solid kick to the chest with her heel being the first thing to make impact. Henry, having been taken by surprise from every hit, stumbled right back into a pair of men. Shaking her fist off, some of the blood ended up getting on the floor, and part of it remained on her hands. 

“I’ll be back, Catherine! Mark my damn words! Let go of me, you imbeciles!”

“Like hell you’ll be back!”

And just as she took a step forward, Aragon went to hold on to one of her arms. “Someone help me hold her back!” Aragon needed the help. Parr was under such a fit of rage she was dragging her godmother across the hallway. Seymour had to let go of Boleyn to try and hold on to Parr’s other arm. She slowed down, but still had enough adrenaline surging through her to keep going. Cleves just gave Howard a gentle kiss on the cheek before running over to help the other two ladies. No arms? No problem. She just held on to one of Parr’s legs.

Boleyn pulled her cousin into a tight hug, feeling a shaky exhale leave her body. “Kitty? Kitty, are you okay?” Just a nod. Howard was terrified to open her mouth after seeing the ungodly wrath unfold before her eyes. “I-Is… she mad at us, Annie?” Quiet and almost inaudible. The poor girl was terrified to even talk out of fear that Parr was not just angry at Henry, but at them too.

“Catherine Parr, what in God’s name has gotten into you?” Aragon furrows her eyebrows. “This is not you. What is going on? Talk to me, please.”

Anne reaches to take Kit’s hand. “She’s… upset. Not at us, I promise.” Anne had to admit, all of the ferocity coming from Parr scared her a little bit. The yelling reminded her a little of when Henry first stormed in and accused her. Of course, she would set it aside, but it was scary in the moment. She looks in Kit’s eyes, which are now full of tears, sighing and pulling her into another tight hug and rubbing her back. “It’s okay, babes… He’s gonna go away and we will be okay, I promise. The girls aren’t gonna let him get to us.” Kit just buries her face into Anne’s shoulder and lets out the remainder of what she wouldn’t let out in front of Henry. Thank goodness the men had taken him into another room until the police arrived. 

Anne pulls out of the hug for a moment and then walks Kit outside. “You look absolutely knackered, love… maybe we should head home as soon as all of this is over. Do you wanna change into something else? C’mon.” They both decide to change, but do so in the staff bathroom rather than in the dressing room. On the off chance Henry was able to see into the dressing room, they didn’t want him to see anything. Anne also thought a door with a lock was the safest. 

Once they finish hanging up their costumes, the two settle into the couch, and just hold each other. Anne hums a little of La Vie en Rose, and quickly, Kit falls asleep. Anne doesn’t mind. They were all done with the day, it had already put them through the ringer. 

There’s an apparent veil of exhaustion amongst all of the women, except Parr.

Sure, Henry had been apprehended at this point and he was stuck with his hands cuffed behind his back, but that didn’t stop him from being inches away from Parr’s face with a very devious smile. “I’ll be back, Catherine. And you six will have to deal with me all over again. Especially Kat–”

“Like hell you are!”

Catherine Parr broke her left arm free from Catherine of Aragon’s grip, and her right arm from Jane Seymour’s. The right hand took a vice-like grip on his shirt collar before her left fist came swinging at full power, and thensome since the weight of the costume added force. That impact had a very, very nasty sound to it. Even Cleves flinched at it, soon seeing the blond man fall straight to the floor with a bloody face. “Get anywhere near us and I will have you laying your head on a prison bench just how you made poor Katherine and Anne lay down as you murdered them!”

The officers picked up the unconscious Henry, and kindly thanked Jane, Anna, and Aragon for their cooperation. Parr however, got a warning, but that was about it.

Giving it a moment, knowing they would be out of earshot at this point, Parr releases a rather annoyed grumble. “He’ll fucking pay for his crimes against all of you. I swear on my life he will rot in a prison cell for what he did. If he thinks he can just show up out of nowhere and come back here to take us for fools, he’s wrong,” she almost hissed at the end. The thickness of her accent was making Aragon concerned, since to see someone as rational as her goddaughter be in such a state was a rare experience. Cleves and Seymour both looked up with mortified faces. Ever seen revenge personified as human? No? Now you have.

And her name was Catherine Parr.

“What in heaven was that?” Maggie asks, getting up and peeking out into the hallway. A small laugh. The thud was actually loud enough to wake the cousins, and they both get up, confused a little, and sleepily walk to join her at the door frame. Anne rubs her eyes and yawns, looking at Henry, now being pulled up by two police men. 

She glances to Parr, and then to Henry, and upon sight of Parr’s hands, she lets out a small, startled gasp. His blood was actually on her knuckles. Probably mixed with her own, if her knuckles had bust. Kit has a similar reaction, coupled with hiding behind Anne at the sight of the wicked man. “Cathy… let me help you get cleaned up. Mags, can you grab the first aid kit out of my backpack?” 

“Let’s just go home, first.” Parr says, a little cold, while watching an officer take Henry away. She wanted to watch up until he was inside of the car, so she could ensure he was going away for good. The other officer asks her a few questions about the situation, and she tells him everything that happened, down to the fact that they would be filing a restraining order, and that Henry was not allowed to see their show again. 

––––––––––

The six women had gone home after waiting… maybe an extra ten minutes after Parr finished talking to the police officer. The car was dead silent on the ride back to the house, too.

“I’m actually mad about the fact that he’s actually attractive now,” Boleyn rolls her eyes as she walks in after Seymour. “I’m kidding, obvs. But how is he alive? We’ve been free for… who knows how long now and he comes back? What did he want, anyways?” Seymour turned to face Boleyn, giving the brunette a gentle pat on the head. “It sounded like revenge, but I think Cathy has the actual answer to that. We can talk to her when she’s a lot calmer, though… she’s very…”

“Upset, angry… name it, I am probably feeling it.”

“We all are, love…” Anne goes to her, gently taking her hands, looking at them carefully. One’s very busted up, and the blood has now dried and solidified. “Let me clean you up, c’mon.” She motions to the kitchen, and the two head in there, Parr sitting on the counter while Anne gets the first aid kit out. “I’m not ashamed of what I did today.” Parr stares at the floor, expecting some sort of lecture or argument to happen, but it doesn’t.

“You protected me. That’s all I could ever want.” Anne kisses her quickly on the cheek before pouring some hydrogen peroxide on a gauze cloth. Before she starts to press it to Cathy’s knuckles, she looks the girl straight in the eyes. “Don’t be mad for how much this is going to hurt, please.” 

While those two work on that, the other girls drop their bags next to the door and slump into the chairs around the kitchen table, an apparent awkwardness in the air. Jane is the first to speak, and it’s absolutely filled with regret and apology. “Ladies, I am so sorry I lost my cool today. I shouldn’t have gotten so ‘up in arms.’ He just… I never…” She’s tearing up a little, and Kit offers a hand for her to squeeze as she tries to work through her words. She takes a deep breath, brushing some of her blonde hair out of her face. 

“I never got to tell him all of that. All of the resentment.”

Cathy grumbles from the counter, agreeing with her statement. “He sure got a taste of all of my resentment.” Her cheeks were reddening, and Anne doesn’t know what else to do past wrapping the girl’s knuckles, so she lays a kiss on them, hoping that will calm her down. “Shhh… no need to get worked up over that toff, not again.” Her hand goes to hold Parr’s face. “Let’s be happy, okay?” 

“Jane, we all had every right to react the way we did. Even Cathy had a right to bash his ugly face in.” Kit nods reassuringly, and the other queens mumble words of agreement, Anne and Parr silently making their way over to the table. Something about Parr’s energy was off, but the queens wouldn’t question it for the time being. They were all rattled, it didn’t take much to see it. 

“I just feel that as the mother of the group, I reacted rather rashly. I think–” She has to hold back some tears. “I think I should’ve composed myself.” This ends with the ladies all essentially tackling Jane with a group hug, even Parr, though not really seeming to want to participate. It was getting late, anyways, and it was almost time for her to begin her nightly writing. It would help.  

Anne clears her throat. “I think you did perfectly, Jane. He’s an absolute tosser for thinking he could face all six of us at once.” Kit laughs in agreement, and the two head upstairs. Parr quickly dismisses herself, Aragon trailing quickly behind after giving Jane a tight hug. 

Cleves takes Jane’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Gute Nacht, Jane. Versuche nicht zu viel darüber nachzudenken.” Jane sighs. “Still don’t speak German, love.”

“Try not to think too much about it.”

“Catherine,” Aragon knocks on the open door, furrowing her eyebrows. “Mija, what got into you today? That isn’t you. Where… where did you even go?” A sharp look from the sixth wife to the first, before it softened up. It eventually became more of a look of shame as Parr’s eyes went to the bandaged hand. She really did do a number on herself, but that blond haired Tudor nightmare deserved it. She wasn’t wrong, was she? Or, had her morality become such an ambiguous grey area that maybe it was wrong for her to have sucker punched the man who beheaded Katherine Howard so unfairly.

The shameful eyes look up, seeing Aragon’s concern despite the slight scowl. “I’m sorry, Lina. I… no se. Yo lo vi y... Me congelé. Es como si todo el sentido racional dejara mi cuerpo y me quedara con impulso. Lo juro, no... siempre así. Tu lo sabes! Aunque asusté a todos, no?” The hurt in her voice was evident. Parr knew she became the morally ambiguous of the group, which was normally not the good thing. Aragon’s expression lightened up just a little as she approached her goddaughter, and pulled her into a side hug. “Sucede, amor. Pero no te enfades tanto con alguien tan horrible. Seguimos amándote, y siempre nos preocuparemos por ti. Ninguna de nosotras te tiene miedo, y eso te lo prometo.”

Those last words gave Catherine Parr just a little bit of hope. Catherine of Aragon gave one last hug to the woman before heading on out the door, but not without “Don’t stay up late.” being the last thing she said to the sixth wife. 

Kit and Anne stand in the hallway, chatting before going to their rooms, which were across from each other. “Lock your window, Annie, please.” It’s evident that Kit is still very worried about Henry figuring out where they live or figuring out how to get in. Anne nods, despite the fact that they lived on the second floor.. “Of course.” The girls hug and in a matter of seconds, they are both behind their respective closed doors. 

Kit leans against the door for a moment after closing it, but not locking it, and a few silent tears fall before she starts to change into her pajamas. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” She mumbles to herself, turning on her string lights and turning off the main light of the room. She debates what kind of music to listen to, mulling over it for a few minutes before turning on some classical. It was different, but it would work. 

Anne, on the other hand, immediately goes to lock her window and pull the shades closed, which was slightly saddening because she did enjoy looking at the night sky before she fell asleep. She sits on the edge of her bed for a moment, deep in thought about Cathy. She had to admit, the girl she saw today was one she had never seen before, and one she was pretty afraid of seeing again. That fire, while endearing… shook Anne a little. She has to force herself to shake off the thought that anger immediately translates to a person being anything remotely similar to Henry. 

“Right, then… bed it is.” Anne shuts off her lights and lays down, picturing that starry sky in her own mind. It would do. 

Jane settles in with the current book she was reading, a copy of Pride and Prejudice. A story of true love, one could say, and the text was actually helping to calm the blonde down about the events of the day. Aragon peeks in for a moment, and Jane gives her a soft smile, an unspoken agreement that they would be okay.

Though it seemed as if everyone was settling down, Catherine Parr had a storm bigger than a hurricane brewing inside. 

––––––––––

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Catherine Parr let that be the only sound to fill the silence. Normally, it would be music or something, but not tonight.

The calligraphy pen in her hands danced around her fingers, barely having touched the pages of the open notebook. Her vision was still blurred, much to her own surprise. Wrath was a powerful thing, and to have something take over the body for an amount of time would lead to consequences later in the night. In her case, it was a very horrid case of insomnia. While she dealt with insomnia most nights, she had the slightest feeling this was not the typical time to go to bed at 2 in the morning case. The pen began to slow down in her hand, and she held it still for the first time that whole night.

“It’s not the first time you write about how you feel, Cathy. It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine.”

It was not fine.

No matter how many times she told herself it would be fine, she could never believe it. Catherine Parr saw her hand shake, just the slightest, every time she wrote. Every memory from the last few hours was hazy, but simultaneously at the forefront of her mind. The usually clean lines of her penmanship were just the bit off from the feelings. Word after word, the anger began to flow onto the pages like water flowing down a river’s stream. So shaky, and so violent were the movements of Parr’s wrist. In comparison to the surprisingly smooth transition from thought to thought, her actions made her look a little crazed. One could even say she looked oddly desperate to finish writing.

Almost as if she was running out of time.

She was a writer in her past life. An author, really. The woman wrote books, psalms, meditations… name it, she probably has a manuscript of it somewhere. But this? This was not her. This frantic drive to write and write until the pages could take no more and the ink began to go through them was not Catherine Parr. In a way, it was almost symbolic. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

There it was again. The ticking of the clock.

Time was no longer a relevant thing for Parr. She just let the time go on.

Last she could remember, it was midnight. But nay, the clock spoke otherwise. A glance at it revealed it to be four in the morning. Her hand and wrist were cramped up, and the tears that she felt falling were drying on her face. The pages had become full of nonsensical phrases, mostly a result of the anger still in her system. But that anger began to fade from anger into a depression.

Why couldn’t she be stronger?

Why didn’t she do enough at the moment?

The pain finally struck her heart. Silence began to be her worst enemy, and something she thought she’d never do is what she did. Parr slams her hands on the desk, crying out, almost as if it were a scream or cry for help. The scream was enough to wake up Catherine of Aragon in an instant. A second and third one woke Jane Seymour and Anna of Cleves up. The fourth one got to Anne Boleyn. In a worried hurry, Aragon got out of bed and ran down the stairs to get to the door before almost ramming it down with her own body.

“Cathy? Mija, what’s the–… Cathy?”

What she saw was a torn woman in front of her. Her bandaged hand had a little blood seeping through the ends. Some of the curls were sticking to her face, and her eyes were all puffy and red. Aragon gently pulled Parr up and into a tight embrace. “Escúchame. Todo está bien, Cathy. Estamos en la casa.” Normally, Aragon had a commanding nature that gave off the feeling of someone being safeguarded behind a wall, but this was one of those moments she was willing to let her wall down. Parr’s grip tightened, with the tears coming back and rushing in like an ocean’s grey waves.

Catherine learned just a smidge of Spanish for her godmother. Enough to get by with a conversation or two, but she was not fluent in any way. “Duele, Lina,” a sniffle. “Todo esto duele y no hice lo suficiente para ayudar.” And there was something about her goddaughter using Spanish in such a defeated manner that made Aragon crack a little on the inside. Her own eyes were welling up with tears as she looked to the door.

Seymour, Cleves, and Boleyn.

All three of them with wide eyes and fairly concerned expressions. But it was Anne who saw the tears forming in Aragon’s eyes and threatening to spill. The two lock eyes and it takes everything in Anne to not crack too. She gives Aragon a look that says, ‘Let me try.’ Lina nods and gives Cathy’s hand a small squeeze, and Anne goes and kneels on the floor in front of her. 

The other three stand in the hallway, knowing it was probably best to give the two a moment. “Did that not wake Kitty?” Cleves pauses, and then points in the general direction of Howard’s room, loud classical music streaming through her closed door. 

Anne takes Parr’s hands. “Cathy, please talk to me… please, love.” It takes Parr a moment to look into Boleyn’s eyes, which are also filled with tears at this point. “It kills me to see you hurting.” A hand goes to wipe some tears from Parr’s cheeks. It lingers there, cupping her cheek, Anne’s thumb reflexively going back and forth to wipe more tears as they fall. 

“It kills me to see you hurting.” Her statement is coupled with a small voice crack, and not one that you would usually find endearing. This was out of pure sadness and anger. She sighs. “I should’ve done more.” She looks at the floor, past Boleyn, though her head is now resting on the girl’s hand. 

“He’s the one that deserves to be on a scaffold!” She starts to sob again, leaning forward, and Anne catches her, in a sense. Shaking with anger, she lets it out, nearly soaking Anne’s shirt in a matter of seconds. “He deserves to die! Why is he here?” Her breathing becomes slightly erratic, heaving breaths joining in with shallow sobs. 

The three in the hallway silently elect to let the two work through it. It really seemed as if Anne was the only one who was going to be able to get her to calm down, even if only a fraction. Aragon lingers for a moment, and then decides finally to go back to her room, leaving the door open in case anyone needed anything. Jane does the same, but reads for a few minutes before going back to sleep. 

Anne isn’t sure what to do, so she stands both of them up, having to support Parr a little, and just holds her, swaying back and forth slowly. “Shh… babe… he doesn’t deserve your tears…” Anne, you preach this, yet you’re a mess too. Albeit, a mess because Cathy is crying, but a mess nonetheless. “He… he’s getting his karma. He has to watch us thrive. And he can’t do a damned thing to us. We’re untouchable.” She was also telling herself this. 

Parr nods quietly, latching on to Anne even more, as if letting her go would mean she’d disappear into thin air. Though she hadn’t actually said it, she knew she loved Anne. More than anything, and if punching Henry in the face was what she had to do to protect her, she’d do it every day for the rest of her life. 

“Can I sleep in your room tonight?” She speaks softly, voice scratchy as a result of the outburst. It was nearing five o’clock at this point, but it didn’t matter. With no hesitation, Anne replies with a simple “Of course,”  pulling away slightly to look Parr in the eyes. Those tired, red eyes, still wet with tears formed over a man who didn’t matter one bit. Not in this moment, he didn’t. 

The two make their way to Boleyn’s room, a twin bed being the only place for them, but it would be plenty of space. Anne lays down first, patting the small space next to her for Parr to join. It’s almost as if they’re out as soon as they cover up. 

Kit sleeps through all of this. Perhaps it’s the music blaring from her speakers, or the exhaustion from the events of the day, but it’s the first night the girl doesn’t wake up screaming. The other queens are really surprised to see her downstairs in the morning, looking well rested and pouring herself a cup of tea, seemingly fine. “G’morning.” She yawns, and the others just kind of look at each other as if reality has shifted. “Where are Cathy and Annie?” 

“In bed, still.” 

“Ja.” 

“I should check on them.” Kit says, setting her tea down. Cleves joins her, cringing a little when Kit knocks awfully loudly on the door and pushes it open. “Halt die Klappe, Kit…” Kit turns and looks at her, a puzzled look on her face. Cleves rolls her eyes jokingly, and then whispers again. “You’re too loud.” 

The sight upon opening the door is a combination of comedic and sweet. Parr is absolutely sprawled out on top of Anne, snoring loudly and taking up most of the bed. One of her hands is on Anne’s cheek, as if she had fallen asleep holding the girl’s face. Anne is awake, quietly scrolling through TikTok with headphones in. She looks at the two in the doorframe and smiles, looking down at Parr. ‘We’re okay.’ She mouths, and Jane and Aragon peek in, a small laugh coming from the Spanish queen. It warmed her heart to see the two all bundled up and Parr seemingly at peace, even if only for a moment. 

Parr makes a small noise and shifts, essentially pulling Anne closer and wrapping a leg around her. The ladies all smile, electing to leave the two alone. It was evident that everything would be okay, at least for now. Anne kisses Cathy on the forehead, letting out a happy sigh. Parr subconsciously replies with a small snore, and the two stay there, safe in each other's arms, for most of the day. 

A couple hours seem to pass and it’s about… noon, when Parr starts stirring. Anne notices this, and begins to smile. At least she was waking up. However, things were not going to go to plan, because in comparison to Anne, Catherine was a whole lot taller, and took up just a bit more space. Thinking for a moment she was still in her room, Parr went to try and roll to the other side of the bed, but immediately woke up at not having anything underneath her. A loud enough thudding noise got everyone’s attention.

The other four queens almost immediately ran to the doorframe, and Anne was sitting up.

In typical Boleyn fashion, she was laughing.

Parr on the other hand, was not very happy. “Ow…” Looking up, she just sees the green queen essentially laying back down because of the laughter, and a glance to the doorway reveals four others holding back laughter. “Oh haha, funny that Cathy Parr fell off a bed now is it?”

Through the laughter, Boleyn responds.

“It’s marvelous, love!”

[its-sixxers]

Top 10 Female Characters

Rules: Name your top 10 favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people. tagged by: @marvilus73​ thank uuuu

tagging: @benny-gecko-official​ @courier-sux​ @randomwordsandstormydays​ @radbeetle​ @vaulties​ @nukasoda​ @falloutglow​ @valkyriejack​ @corvegaassemblyplant​ @eeveevie​ woof that’s a lotta people u dont gotta do i just obey the tumblr tag gods sometimes

It’s a VERY good thing that this was for different fandoms because 3 of them were going to be from A Song of Ice and Fire because I am the worst. All of these women have inspired parts of my OCs, see if you can spot the fascinating ways I am a hack fraud under a read more cuz long

Samus Aran (Metroid)

My first videogame love. I will die for her. Really the first example of a lady kicking ass that I can remember, and also gave me my fascination for the mysterious person in armor trope. Seeing a female character who wasn’t sexualized (until the zero suit, anyway) was a game changer.

Sansa Stark (A Song of Ice and Fire)

I’m in the camp where I prefer book Sansa to show Sansa, but in general I just really love what she represents - or at least the potential of it. A woman constrained by the binds of her society and suffering for it, but learning to play it to her advantage and turn the tables on motherfuckers and make them forever regret underestimating her. Strong in a way that doesn’t require physical power or violence. She’s a very different archetype and I love her for it. (I also enjoy her dynamic with Sandor even though it screams problematic). MY QUEEN IN DA NORF

Honorary mentions also go to Brienne of Tarth and Olenna Tyrell from the series. :V

Sarah Connor (Terminator)

I prefer the first movie to the second and Sarah's a big reason for that. I love seeing an ordinary woman faced with horrifying circumstances and fuckin' killing it. T2 Sarah is very fucked up (and I appreciate that she's realistically fucked up from what she's been through) and I love her too but sweet baby angel T1 Sarah is my fave. I pretend the other movies don’t exist lol sue me

Maiev Shadowsong (Warcraft)

In a total reverse from Sarah Connor, I love Maiev because she's an absolute asshole, but also because she's right. Mostly. A woman incredibly devoted to her duty, who has witnessed a lot of terror and horror, arguably betrayed by her leader and still trying to do what's best for her people. Love her to bits. Tyrande who?

Red (Transistor)

This game stuck with me after I finished it and has still stuck with me. Just having a relatively mute protagonist (save for her singing) in crazy circumstances with her dead boyfriend's soul in a sword she uses to whoop ass. Idk. I just think she's neat.

Furiosa (Mad Max: Fury Road)

She's fury and love, power and tenderness. She's every shade of woman - she’s a human and there’s absolutely no male gaze regarding her (to the point of angering manchildren, legend). If every female character was like Furiosa I could die happy. I can't sufficiently express how amazing she and the rest of the female cast in the movie are but I've seen it three times in theatres if that tells you anything.

Margaret (The Crown)

Her character is based on an actual real life person, but dramatized. This is going to be a smidge weird but idc. I identify a lot with Margaret - her pains in love, her aimlessness, feeling ignored or misunderstood, a complicated but loving relationship with her sister. Taking to abusing alcohol to deal with it and everyone just kind of turning a blind eye. The mix of very high highs and very low lows. Trying to be happy and things never seeming to work out. The absolute tragedy of her life just being absolute garbage - partially of her own making. She's great, Vanessa Kirby and Helena Bonham Carter do a great job portraying her.

Elinor Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility)

For the Austenverse this spot was a tie between Elinor and Anne Elliot from Persuasion. Both are characters I've grown to love more and more as I've gotten older and can identify with them more. They're up there in age, they're the obligatory responsible adult in their families trying to fuckn' make do on this bitch of an earth. They have great pains and anxiety regarding love a nd their age and broken hopes and just hnnnh feels. Emma Thompson is my favorite rendition of her.

Lady Sarah Churchill (The Favorite)

Baddest bitch on the block. Emphasis on bitch. Like Sansa, her world is a sexist and misogynist one where women aren't percieved as a threat - they're barely percieved as players at all - but Sarah is smart as hell and has managed to seat herself in a position of extreme power at the Queen's side. At the cost of emotionally manipulating the Queen for her own selfish needs. (wtf) She's a villian I really like and seeing her and Abigail's power struggles is depressing but entertaining. Also her fashion sense is bomb dot com.

Megara (Disney)

Alongside Esmeralda (another favorite, tho problematic) the only Disney heroine from my childhood that seems to be an actual adult. She's sassy, her hips don't lie, and she loves herself a himbo. Relateable.

[dweemeister]

Ordet (1955, Denmark)

By the 1950s, Danish director Carl Theodor Dreyer had made eleven films. However, his last three works were victims of circumstance. The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928) consistently ranks high in film critics’ lists of the greatest movies ever made, but it offended ardent French nationalists who resisted the idea of a Dane directing a movie about one of the nation’s secondary patron saints. Vampyr (1932), in its stillness and languor befitting its disturbing atmosphere, was despised by audiences – including a riot from Viennese moviegoers demanding a refund – expecting more action. Day of Wrath (1943) released a firestorm of controversy in Nazi-occupied Denmark because of its allegory about living under an authoritarian regime. All three of these films were commercial failures. All three of these films are today considered cinematic exemplars.

Danish movie producers might have sneezed, claiming imaginary allergies, at the notion of financing the next Dreyer film, but the Danish government decided to reward Dreyer – struggling with finances after World War II – with a lifelong lease to the Dagmar, the state arthouse movie theater. With a morsel of the Dagmar’s profits, Dreyer sought a project he could make on a shoestring budget. Dreyer’s twelfth film would be Ordet (“The Word” in English), based on a play of the same name by Lutheran pastor Kaj Munk. Ordet is a severe film that never loses hold of an attentive viewer. It contains a provocative ending that cannot (and will not) be spoiled, and it is an ideal follow-up to The Passion of Joan of Arc and Day of Wrath in that this piece examines the nature of faith. Instead of probing why the film’s characters believe (or don’t believe) in God, its focus is instead on how the characters express their belief.

In the autumn of 1925, widowed Borgen family patriarch Morten (Henrik Malberg) is a devout farmer soon to be busy with doting on his third, incoming grandchild. Morten has three sons: his eldest, Mikkel (Emil Hass Christensen), is agnostic, married to Inger (Birgitte Federspeil), and the couple have taken care of Morten’s two grandchildren; middle son Johannes (Preben Lerdorff Rye) went mad studying Søren Kierkegaard’s texts and now believes himself to be Jesus Christ; and youngest son Anders (Cay Kristiansen), the center of the film’s attention for a plurality of its runtime, is lovesick. The entire Borgen family lives under the same roof – creating tension, but Morten is nevertheless proud of “Borgensfarm”.

Anders and Anne Petersen (Gera Nielsen) wish to marry. Anne’s father Peter (Ejner Federspiel), is the local leader of the conservative Inner Mission sect of Lutheranism; Anders and Anne correctly believe he will oppose the marriage. Peter’s standoffish rejection inspires Morten – also originally in opposition – to change his mind. He stomps over to Peter’s residence, arriving mid-sermon, and failing to sway his friend. Peter’s telephone rings as they argue, and Peter must bear news of a family emergency at Borgensfarm.

Pacing and an intricate plot are of no concern to Dreyer. For the film’s opening two-thirds, Dreyer – who wrote the adapted screenplay – takes all the time needed to let the audience know the lives of the Borgens. The love shared between all three generations of the Borgen family is never questioned, although their understanding of and relationship with God differs. Because of my lack of religious belief, I do not know how to accurately describe Dreyer’s comparison of Morten and Peter other than the former is less beholden to religious dogma than the latter. The agnostic Mikkel believes God as essentially dead, forsaking long ago the children of Earth to the kindness and cruelty of their neighbors. No one in the Borgen household condemns or lampoons Mikkel for not believing. Certainly not Inger, who sympathizes with this struggle of faith. Not even Johannes, the most difficult son to truly understand. Johannes, speaking Jesus’ words from scripture and words that one could imagine Jesus might have said in rural 1920s Denmark, appears as a cloud-gazing, simply-clothed itinerant by day. His words are lofty, his speech deliberate, his empty gaze distancing him from those who surround him. He asks others to pray and believe, never wrathful if they do not listen or heed his advice. By night, he returns home as he always has done. Though he no longer addresses his father, brothers, sister-in-law, and nieces as his father, brothers, sister-in-law, and nieces, they still treat him as family – even though they do not accept him as Christ. For Anders, he is obviously preoccupied with the woman he loves.

Ordet is structured around the domestic lives and habits of its characters – it is akin to free verse poetry, resisting any attempts at novelistic analysis. Characters fully express themselves, and dialogue never overlaps between speakers (even in argument). There is silence after completed statements of opinion and revelation. In that silence, Dreyer’s camera captures the listener’s reaction (except for Johannes, who does not visually react): contentment, disbelief, amusement, concern, horror, understanding. This is executed in the mostly empty spaces of the Borgen household, against clear backdrops. In the dialogue pauses during and between conversations, all one can hear is ambient noise: the floorboards creaking as a character is making their way across the room, the clock ticking in the parlor room, someone shuffling positions in their chair. Cinematographer Henning Bendtsen (1959’s Boy of Two Worlds, 1991’s Europa) keeps his camera distant – of Ordet’s 114 total shots (averaging more than sixty seconds each between cuts), only three are close-ups. It is as if there is a presence accompanying the characters even in the most ordinary scenes, but that presence is something unknowable, something beyond an individual’s understanding of God.

Bendtsen’s mastery of mise en scène (a concept that is generally defined as the combination of set design, shot composition, and actor placement to empower cinematic or theatrical art) culminates when Mikkel’s oldest daughter, Maren (Ann Elisabeth Groth), walks into the parlor room to see her uncle Johannes waiting in the dark. Inger has gone into labor; her pregnancy endangering her life. Maren has overheard how perilous her mother’s situation is from the adults and cannot sleep.

She asks Johannes if her mother will die soon; he responds, “Do you want her to, little girl?” The camera cuts. “Yes, because then you’ll bring her back to life, won’t you?” It is a curious response that raises unanswered questions how Mikkel’s two girls view Johannes as an uncle and as a self-proclaimed Christ. The others will not allow me to perform this miracle, notes Johannes, as the camera begins to slowly revolve around them. Maren and Johannes have a late-night conversation about what happens when a mother goes to heaven and miracles. The gradual dolly shot going across Johannes and Maren’s front sides display the empty depths of the parlor room, suggesting something there. Again, it suggests something beyond our conception of God. Maren and Johannes’ conversation adds to this, as Johannes comforts Maren, imparting that mothers will be with their children even in death, without the stress of other things during the day. In three minutes, a creaking floorboard, ticking clock, Johannes’ blank face, and the familial tenderness between the two actors have encapsulated what Ordet conveys to open-minded viewers of all faiths.

All of this is demanding, in different ways, for the acting ensemble and the audience. In many films (especially today’s cinema), editors will cut quickly from reactions to dialogue or during dialogue – serving to either undermine an actor’s ability or conceal their shortcomings. Because of the camerawork and minimal editing, there is little room for any mediocre acting to hide in Ordet (which contains stellar performances from its ensemble), a production that asks its actors to inhabit their characters for lengthy stretches without a cut. In a way, this harkens to Ordet’s background as a stage play, but the film adaptation does not feel stage-bound. For the audience, the barely moving camera and thoughtful pace can be an impediment to the impatient. But I suspect many viewers – as I did – will have difficulty unpackaging Johannes. Johannes, with all credit to Preben Lerdorff Rye, seems like he accidentally walked onto the wrong movie set and began acting thinking he was shooting for that other production. That last sentence could be construed as disparagement, but it is not – Rye’s performance befits the character, and Dreyer’s intention to perplex viewers with Johannes’ presence is controlled and purposeful.

Johannes’ presence in Ordet strikes at unsettling ideas for Christians and non-Christians alike, and these conflicting ideas are integral to the film’s controversial final ten minutes. In contrast to Morten’s comfortable, undemanding religiosity and the Inner Mission’s stringent emphasis on dogma, Johannes’ claims to be Christ is unnerving. The New Testament is filled with parables, gospels, and miracles told and performed by Christ. The Borgen family and the Inner Mission sect adherents would rather Jesus be dead, with God’s physical embodiment and judgment removed from the corporeal world humans share, than believe Johannes to be the son of God. Every character in Ordet except Johannes believes that the days of God’s miracles have passed; to some viewers, the film may seem to endorse this view. But Dreyer’s intentions are not to evangelize on behalf of any Christian belief – Dreyer, according to film critic Jonathan Rosenbaum, was not religious and his occasional visits to a French Reformed church were attempts to familiarize himself with Christian colloquialisms for his film projects. Dreyer wants to understand how religion plays a role in the lives of the Borgens and the film’s secondary characters and how they express their faith. He succeeds.

By the time Ordet’s final act begins, the viewer is probably still wondering how such an apparently simple film that may have bored them in the opening half-hour has convinced them to finish it – barreling into the thickets of one’s soul with unexpected force. Dreyer and the actors have outlined their characters completely, allowing observant viewers intuit each character’s reactions to the mundane and the sublime. The film’s paradoxical and transcendent conclusion provides these characters and the audience an ending that we desperately desire, but also challenges that desire to question our faith.

For the first time since the silent era, Carl Theodor Dreyer had made a film that was instantly acclaimed by critics and audiences in Denmark and abroad – including receiving the Golden Lion at the 1955 Venice Film Festival and a joint Golden Globe Award for Best Foreign Film shared with four other movies. Despite Ordet’s success, Dreyer would continue to struggle in finding funds to make another film. Dreyer made only one more film in Gertrud (1964), and a long-gestating project about Jesus (no surprise that Dreyer would consider making such a film) never came to fruition, although a manuscript outlining the film was published in 1968.

As someone who was never raised with much of an understanding of the Abrahamic religions, I nevertheless find films commenting about the nature of religious belief fascinating. Almost all these films, due to demographics and religious history, have been within Christianity’s folds. Too often faith is held as a nightstick for comic or dramatic purposes in narrative art – and this sort of art is neither challenging nor rewarding for anyone. In recent years, I have found glorious exceptions from Old Hollywood and in non-English-language cinema that put to shame the evangelical-specific, exclusionary present of the American Christian film industry. Ordet is arguably one of the most exacting and illuminating religious films ever made. Late in Ordet, Dreyer’s film finds itself in a wallow of despair and ends with spirits exultant. Its ending – one that I desired – still leaves me uplifted and horrified.

My rating: 10/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

[theowlandthekey]

We Don’t Need Covens: In This Essay I Will...

I'm a big fan of Sarah Anne Lawless. I never got the opportunity to speak with her personally, but for those of you who've been around long enough, you likely know about her blog discussing traditional witchcraft and her shop. I often found her posts to be inspirational, providing a unique clarity on subjects that most books skip over. To this day her belladonna ointment is one of the few things that can make my wife's back spasms stop.

Unfortunately both her blog and her shop have closed up. All I can find are interviews with her. In a very broad sense, Lawless came out about abuse and manipulation within the pagan community. She named names and instead of addressing the problems and having an open discussion about it, she was harassed until she backed off.

It upset me at the time in a very distant sense. As I said I never knew her, but I admired her passion and the certainty with which she practiced her craft. Though it's now long after the fact, I finally think I have the ability to put my thoughts into words.

We don't need covens. We never did.

I've been practicing off and on for about fifteen years or so. I've played around with different methods of witchcraft, wicca, and pagan worship. I've been the member of a druid grove, a loose coven association, and even a few on-line groups that claim to do all their spell casting via chat. In the end, I've found them all to be much the same. They promise a great deal and frankly fall short of everything from education to community.

I'm likely going to upset quite a few people with this statement. That's fine. You shouldn't trust anybody who thinks they can tell you your business. But for what it's worth, take a moment to read this over. If something here strikes you as familiar, it might be time to consider another path.

IQuick Note: I know there is a lot of grey area as to what could be considered a witch. You have pagans, heathens, wiccans and the like. Some are comfortable being called witches while others are not. But the connotation changes depending upon each individuals definition. So let's look at witches as people who, for whatever reason, have decided to intentionally avoid Christianity in favor of practicing a personal path of self-realization and independence involving magic, spells, enchantments and the like.

Cult Mentality

First thing you ought to consider is the potential for manipulation and control that exists in any group. This is especially true whenever matters of religion and faith are concerned. It's a touchy subject, no doubt. People are particular about religious practices. For my part, I maintain that witchcraft isn't a religion or a faith. It's a craft. But that doesn't change the fact that people will use religion as a method for controlling others. Especially others who are hungry to fit in with a group that they feel represents them. For this very reason, I firmly believe that witches should avoid becoming a congregation of any kind. Too many of us think of witchcraft as a religion, and while you can play pretend all you like most of us were raised Christian and still have difficulty shaking off the mimicry of organized religion. Our power is in our independence and our ability to think for ourselves, and it becomes much more difficult to do this when you form yourselves into a coven.

Respect My Authority

On that note, you can't form a group without some kind of a hierarchy making itself apparent. I have a strong distaste for covens who create arbitrary titles. They're largely meaningless. You don't really need a high priestess or an archdruid to go around wearing robes with more trim than everybody else. It's just an excuse for someone to hold themselves higher and make decisions without consulting anyone. You'll often find that people who hold these kinds of titles become very upset when someone disagrees with them and find ways to flex their authority in a 'funny' or 'joking' way. Basically telling others that if you disagree with them then you don't need to be there. This comes off especially hard on people who may be new to the craft and are still seeking approval.

Calling Ourselves Out

As sexual abuse allegations are on the rise, we have a duty to be aware of people within our community who put others in danger. We have heard it said that 'while not all priests are abusers, abusers tend to gravitate towards positions of authority'. This is no less true just because those leaders are witches and not priests. You don't get a Free Pass. Covens and groves all seem to want that central authority figure to which they can turn to. We tend to protect them because these people act as a spokesperson for us as a whole. But this does not mean they should be protected if they behave reprehensibly! They are not above the law and if we really want to present ourselves as being different from Christians, we should take a stance of pushing out people who are abusers and manipulators.

But here's the thing. We seem to have this self-righteous indignation that comes with being witches and pagans. Any questioning or perceived threats, especially ones that come from outside the community, are deemed as being biased because of Christian society. While this isn't entirely untrue, it also has a problematic effect on us wearing a permanent set of rose-tinted glasses whenever we look at the pagan community and it's 'stars'. Instead of seeing them as human beings with flaws, we view them as celebrities. We avoid using critical thinking skills when someone in the community comes up against criticism and it can end up damaging our reputation as a whole.

Witch n’ Bitch

While this is one of the most obvious issues with modern witchcraft groups, it is far from the bottom of the cauldron. While many groups come together promising to provide resources for education, help learning rituals and practices, and open discussions, I find that very few of them ever deliver on these promises. I've joined more than a few witchcraft 'study groups' only to have them disband after a few sessions for one reason or another. Others have sessions which quickly get derailed from methods and history into a bitching session about over covens, daily drama, or the like. Instead of helping interested parties by providing resources and discussion, it basically becomes a witches tea party. Brooms are snatched.

Exclusion By Design

Something else I want to bring up is the exclusion by design if not by intention concept that plagues covens. I have seen this manifest in more ways then I can count. Most typically it crops up in the form of “you're not experienced enough in our particular tradition”. However, I've noticed a lot of problems with most pagan groups being painfully white. The excuse is that this makes sense because most witchcraft traditions are European. However, that doesn't seem to stop most witches from liberally grabbing whatever non-European cultural paraphernalia they feel fits their witchy aesthetic. The most notable victims being the American Indians, the Voodoo/Santeria practitioners, and Mexican folk beliefs. I've been told by several people that this isn't on purpose. It's just how it ended up. But when you have to triple check everybody on a Norse Heathen group chat to be sure none of them have any racist ideology there is an inherent problem with the community which is long overdue for exposure.

Queer Craft

I’d like to bring up the patriarchal and hetero-normative slant that is heavily enforced in modern witchcraft and neopaganism. I want to preface this by saying that when I think of a witch, I think of a woman who lives apart from societal norms. She is autonomous. She is self-aware. She is unruffled by others perceptions of her. This is what makes her a force to be reckoned with. Yet much of wicca and neopaganism strives to enforce a very heteronormative perception of a woman's role in society by establishing the narrative of the Maiden/Mother/Crone archetype. While there is beauty in each of these phases of life and there is nothing wrong with a woman finding power in them for herself, enforcing them as a role model for what a woman should be has dangerous implications. A woman must be a virgin, reproductive, or too old to bother with. And it should come as no surprise that concepts have no real male counterpart.

This becomes an even bigger problem as we look forward to a more inclusive world where we are learning to recognize a larger spectrum of gender and sexuality. Where does the Queer witch fit in with these very narrow perceptions of the divine within the self? The pagan community loves to talk about itself as an accepting and open community that embraces all sexualities openly. But that isn't very well reflected in its liturgy and conception. I don't think this gets discussed much because people have heralded the God/Goddess, Horned God/Earth Goddess format for so long that we take it for granted despite these perceptions being relatively modern ones. While there are some traditions which put emphasis on the Queer spectrum and embracing it as a source of power and self-realization, they are few and far between.

Psudo Ethics

The final thing I want to bring up is the irritating moral high-ground that people in the pagan community are so willing to put forth any time we are questioned about our beliefs. It is just as irritating if not more so than listening to Christians proselytize. The Wiccan Rede has held a position for a long time as a general set of standards for what witches and wiccans should consider before acting or casting spells. However, I'm pleasantly surprised to see more of a discussion happening on morality in witchcraft. We don't exist to turn the other cheek. While I'm not a believer in the 'strike first' policy, I am a believer in defending myself when attacked.

I see a lot of judgment happening in the wiccan community, especially now that witchery is in the forefront of social media. People poking their noses into how others practice and deciding to take it upon themselves to 'correct' how another practitioner does their work. I understand why some people want to pursue a more positive and affirming lifestyle through wiccan practices. There is nothing wrong with that. But I confess myself irritated when I'm chided by other witches for casting a curse or have a discussion with a demon. My prerogatives are not your moral imperative, nor are any other witches. So long as my actions are not directed against you, it isn't any of your business what I get up to.

In Conclusion

Ironically, one of the biggest issue with discussing if not resolving many of these issues is that we, as witches/pagans and the like, are NOT a unified group. We are a loose collective. We don't have one central figure who decides doctrine. We don't have any of those things that make for dogma. The fact that we can choose to act independently of one another is a big part of our power. It emboldens us to think for ourselves, question tradition, and seek out new methods and practices which are better suited to our needs. Witchcraft does not begin and end with the anathema and the chalice. We can choose to both acknowledge the gods without permitting them too much influence over our lives. We can dance naked under the full moon while enticing a demon or just make a hot cup of tea while we listen to the rain and meditate. All of this is within our grasp.

But before we can practice together, we have to learn how to function together. And right now I don't' see a great deal of that happening. I believe that by learning how to be ourselves first, by practicing as solitary and independent witches before seeing out a group, we can be more confident overall. After fifteen years of practicing, I can tell you truthfully that I haven't learned anything in a group that I couldn't have learned by studying and practicing on my own. Mostly because 90% of the groups out there read the same damned books I do and are more into repetitive ritual than anything else. I would have loved to work with someone like Sarah Anne Lawless, even just to attend a few workshops led by her. Until we can learn to be better individuals as witches first, I don't know if our community can be better together.

[wondr18360]

Hints at who the traitor was in Persona 5

To be honest, I always had a gut feeling that this person would be the traitor partly because I had seen the teaser images for PQ2 with them included as part of the Phantom Thieves and given their background before they “joined” the group, they certainly seemed suspicious, but still that’s not really proof that this person was the traitor, so here’s a list of things that really helped prove that they were the culprit behind the mental shutdowns and the one who sold out the Phantom Thieves!

(I haven’t revealed their name or gender yet cuz I don’t wanna spoil anyone by accident, so select ‘keep reading’ at your own risk!)

1. Lurking at Okumura Foods

The first time the Phantom Thieves enter Okumura’s palace, Akechi is spotted nearby, and we can see him actually notice the Thieves gathered in front of the company building before the scene cuts to the Metaverse. At this point in the game it could be just a way to make us nervous since it’s already been established that he’s suspicious of the Shujin kids + Yusuke and Futaba, and him seeing them go into the Metaverse in front of a potential target’s property could make him even more suspicious and maybe even give him solid proof that they are the Phantom Thieves, but really, why is Akechi by the Okumura company building in the first place? Maybe it’s a coincidence, or maybe he’s just doing his job investigating Okumura as a suspect? In any case, it is quite convenient, especially that he happens to be there at the same time that the Thieves are, and more importantly, that this just happens to be the one palace that they infiltrate whose owner dies of a mental shutdown because the true culprit appears after the boss battle and kills his shadow. I’m probably grasping at straws, but in hindsight this does seem a bit fishy...

2. Interest in the Shujin Kids + Yusuke & Futaba (and Haru)

During the Shujin Academy panel, when Akechi reveals that he knows their identity as the Phantom Thieves, he tells the group that he was curious about them ever since the Madarame case. This could have been because Yusuke started hanging out with Ryuji, Ann, and Akira (and Morgana) around the time of the Madarame case, and not only would that have been odd because he didn’t go to the same school as them, but after a bit of digging it would have been known that a former pupil/victim of Madarame was hanging out with three Shujin students who had been victims of Kamoshida, who was the first target of the Phantom Thieves; logically that would have made for a pretty interesting group and it would have been a strange coincidence that Yusuke just happens to join those three when his tormentor gets a change of heart. But remember, Madarame’s shadow was the first one to mention the true culprit behind the shutdowns, and talked about a Persona-user with a black mask. Kaneshiro, the next criminal to get a change of heart, also mentioned the culprit. It’s a bit odd that the time around which Akechi grew interested in the group coincides with the time that we first heard about the true culprit, who most likely could have even been in the palaces at the same time as the Thieves and maybe even saw them as they were exploring, particularly since in the Okumura palace, the culprit kills Shadow Okumura right after the Thieves defeat him and leave him behind, indicating that whoever they were, they must have been waiting inside the palace itself for the Thieves to weaken him and then leave so that they could finish the job. Again, probably grasping at straws, but it’s kinda suspicious.

3. Sudden Thieves fan??

Okay he doesn’t really become a fan of the Phantom Thieves, but Akechi’s stance towards them does soften somewhat after Okumura’s death when he adamantly says that they aren’t responsible for the incident or for any of the other mental shutdowns. This is a bit suspicious since before he seemed very convinced that the Phantom Thieves were connected to the mental shutdowns, and when his stance suddenly changes to the opposite, even Sae Nijima calls him out on it and points out the same thing. Not only that, but on his television appearance, he even comments that there may be more going on than originally thought, which is similarly suspicious and even indicates that he may actually know more than he’s letting on. In addition, when he later runs into Akira at Leblanc again, he says something about how is goals are probably not so different from theirs, which a) hints at a possible collaboration between him and the Thieves, and b) indicates that he may also have his own agenda to get rid of scummy adults. The latter is actually confirmed later when he’s talking with the Thieves in Leblanc, when he mentions wanting revenge against sickening human beings and having a grudge against someone, which puts more emphasis on the fact that there is some darker force behind Akechi’s actions and motivation. 

4. Genius, or experienced?

During the Shujin Academy panel when Akechi confronts the Thieves and reveals how he found out their true identities, he says that he has the same power as them and that he gained that power around the time of the Okumura case, about a month before the panel. However, when he’s talking to the Thieves, he seems to know quite a bit about the Metaverse, even mentioning it by name, which is odd because even members like Makoto and Futaba, who either pick up knowledge quite quickly or may have already had some knowledge of the cognitive world, needed time and guidance from Morgana and the veteran members of the Thieves in order to figure things out. And yet here’s Akechi, who was on his own the whole time, talking as though he’s already an expert on the Metaverse- and how exactly did he know that that’s what the other world was called? It’s a bit strange, and even when he’s exploring Sae’s palace with the Thieves, he seems to know quite a lot already, or picks up on things abnormally quickly for someone who’s supposed to be an “amateur” as Morgana would say. Speaking of Sae’s palace, it’s also a bit fishy how he was able to find out so quickly how to use the Meta-nav to find it, since he is the one who reveals to the group that she has a palace, and evidently already has a plan to change her heart. Basically, his intelligence aside, the only other viable reason I can think of for Akechi’s extensive knowledge of the Metaverse is that he has more experience with it than he made it seem to the Phantom Thieves. 

5. Bad storyteller

I don’t know about you guys, but when Akechi was telling the Thieves about how he saw the real culprit behind the shutdowns and somehow survived their encounter by awakening his Persona, I wasn’t buying it. First, there's no proof that what he’s saying is actually true, and also, if he's really going to be a bona fide monafide member of the Phantom Thieves, wouldn’t we actually get to witness his awakening the way we did with all the other members? Even Haru, who was in her Persona clothes already when we first saw her, got a real awakening scene for us to see, but there’s none of that for Akechi. That’s not all though- it’s already established that the true culprit is quite strong, in fact, back when Shadow Kaneshiro mentioned the culprit, he said that the Thieves would be no match for them in terms of strength. If that’s the case, how would Akechi have survived? Maybe the trauma of a life-or-death situation triggered his awakening and his Persona momentarily saved his life, but still the culprit could have taken another shot or two and killed him because he’s still supposed to be relatively unfamiliar with his powers, and logically it would also be in the culprit’s best interests to make sure to get rid of Akechi because he actually saw them and this could come back to bite them later. In any case, Akechi’s story is only slightly believable at best in my opinion, and for me at least it definitely was a big hint.

6. Sae’s calling card

Am I the only one who thought it was kind of weird that Akechi was so specific about the date that they should send out the calling card for Sae? I mean, yeah he gave that whole analysis of her character and why based on that it would be good to send the calling card closer to the deadline, but still, why did it have to be on the 18th? Why not the 17th or the 19th? After all, those dates are pretty close to the deadline as well. This just makes it more likely that Akechi’s monologue about Sae is a clever ruse to hide the fact that he is planning his own “mission” to mobilize the police to capture the Phantom Thieves in her palace on that date. 

7. The deal

One of the biggest indicators (in my opinion) that Akechi wouldn’t be a true member of the Phantom Thieves was his condition for cooperating with them: they disband after dealing with Sae’s palace. If he genuinely was interested in joining them or working together towards justice, he wouldn’t be giving them such an ultimatum. He does say that he wants to work with them because the mission would not be able to succeed without their cooperation, but even that comment is a bit sketchy because his referring to a “mission” could even mean that he has an ulterior motive, some other “mission” that he’s trying to carry out besides taking away Sae’s distorted desires. Anyway, because he generally did not approve of the Thieves and his motivation for working with them was questionable at best, it makes sense that he would have been the one to betray them.

8. Delicious Pancakes:

Finally, the most meme-ish canon hint that Goro Akechi is the traitor! This is basically the incident that tips off Akira and the Phantom Thieves that they should be suspicious of Akechi when he wants to make a deal and work with them later in the game. It’s one of those hints that you can catch when it happens (which is far earlier than the deal and whole traitor business), but it’s subtle enough that you do need to be paying some attention to what’s going on at the time, especially since it’s covered up well by Ryuji’s convincing response to Akechi that nope, no one was talking about pancakes, and the fact that no one actually addresses it afterwards until months later when the story is close to its climax. But even if you did forget that Morgana was the only one talking about pancakes and how delicious they were, you would have to wonder why Akechi was so specific about having heard someone say “delicious pancakes” when it sounds nothing like what Ryuji and Ann were talking about before he arrived on the scene. From the early-game standpoint, it’s an indicator that given the fact that he heard Morgana, Akechi probably isn’t the normal high-school detective that he appears to be, but after progressing to the later part of the game, it’s proof that Akechi could hear and understand Morgana from the very beginning, and therefore was another Metaverse user; he was the true culprit behind the mental shutdowns. 

Welp, that was long, but if you got this far, thanks so much and I hope you enjoyed reading! :D

Bonus hint: Akechi literally is a long-haired alternate dimension version of Light Yagami, I mean of COURSE he’s the crazy criminal masquerading as a detective/ordinary student! XD 

(Also no one asked but Futaba sits a lot like L so it really is like Light vs. L again except this time L WINS!!)