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#he’ll definitely rewrite some history books to be more specific now
lena-kieran-zor-el · 3 years
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Fun little head canon that will absolutely end up in my fic:
Brainy had no idea about Kara and Lena when he first travelled back to the 21st century; the records always had them as close friends, but history lost a lot of the rest. Then, when Lena took a dark turn, he began to worry he’d somehow dismantled the timeline and undone the incredible good the two would have done together.
After the two finally reconcile, it’s Nia who points it out to him first.
“Not possible,” he retorts, citing the deep repertoire of 31st century historical texts on Supergirl (that he’s read his whole life). “We certainly would have known about something like that.” Nia smirks, holding up her hands and smugly mutters something about “Sappho and her ‘friend.’” Brainy sputters for a moment, begins to realize something may be missing.
During the few weeks after William’s funeral (before the wedding), Brainy spends his time in the 31st century reviewing the books he’s read since he was a child: “The Legend of Kara Zor-El”, “The Supergirl”, “Hope of Steel,” even “Early Superheroes and Vigilantes of Earth.” As he goes over them, he finds more and more inconsistencies, things that jar with what he saw with his own eyes. The chapters about Lena Luthor never cover the lingering looks, the soft words, the endless hours the two would have snuck of to some corner of the Tower where Brainy would have to ferret them out for a mission briefing.
“Oh sprock,” he mutters as he realizes, “I’ve been a truly abominable wingman.”
Suddenly, he realizes: this is what makes a hero truly powerful - love. That having that powerful connection makes anything worth fighting for, even dying for.
Something he is about to let go of forever.
In a flash, Brainy dons his finest dress wear. He swiftly tidies up his books and looks at the cover of “The Legend of Kara Zor-El” again, paying it a bit more attention. The Kryptonian’s visage stands boldly at the front of a group, filled with faces Brainy now recognizes extremely well, including his own. Specifically, he sees, a sharply dressed human woman with flowing dark hair stands directly at Kara’s side, and tucked away almost out of view by their side are their hands.
Fingers perfectly intertwined.
“Kara Zor-El,” he chuckles softly, “you’ve saved me yet again.” A flick of his wrist flies the books back to their place on the shelf as he calls Winn over his communicator.
“Hold the ship, Mr. Schott. You’ve another passenger to take.”
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Psycho-philosophy & the angels, fallen or not (part I)
I swear I wasn’t taking any mind-altering substances while I wrote this. It’s very heavy and I’m not sure anyone will enjoy it, but I felt like I had to get it out.
And now it’s too long to be just one part. Here is the first part anyway.
It’s established that Aziraphale and Crowley symbolize the “opposing” sides of human nature, but I have a pretty difficult time with believing that they actually represent “good” and “evil.” THEY believe they represent “good” and “evil.” But even before the two of them develop their humanity by spending time on Earth, before they start to affect each other, they both have philosophies that are far more complicated than just “do good things/be helpful” or “do bad things/be hurtful.”
Before you can be “good,” you need a definition of “good.” And the same goes for “evil.” And I absolutely do not think that the characters’ personal definitions of “good” and “evil” match with the narrative’s definitions of “good” and “evil” (which I’m not strictly sure it really has). So...what might they represent more closely?
In extremely broad terms based more in dictionary definitions than in the finer points of academic philosophy, I’d cast Crowley as the individualist and Aziraphale as the collectivist. Individualism is the prioritizing of the individual’s interests over a group’s interests. Collectivism is the prioritizing of a group’s interests over the individual’s interests.
Obviously, this is heavily informed by abuse from their Sides. Hell motivates its demons to behave by making them fear for their own souls using physical intimidation. Temptations are also usually focused on taking advantage of some selfish motivation in humans. Heaven, meanwhile, motivates its angels with the promise of the Greater Good, intimidates its angels with the belief that disobedience is out of line with the Greater Good, and shames its angels for acting with any sort of personal interest.
“What?!” you say. You’re going to cast Crowley, the guy who initially hatched the plan to try to save the world at great personal risk, as the self-centered individualist, and Aziraphale, the hedonist who’s just about ready to watch the world burn at Heaven’s command until Crowley buys him lunch, as the collectivist one?!
Well...in a way. Because while the characters believe they represent these ideas, and while they genuinely buy into them on some level, the whole point is that the two viewpoints taken to extremes end up looking awfully similar. They also rely on each other, no matter how much they try not to.
I should clarify a few things before arguing any more.
The perceived “selflessness” of collectivism is sometimes idealized, and that’s why it maps onto the supposed “goodness” of Heaven, but it doesn’t actually mean kindness, compassion, or goodness. It means not considering oneself - including one’s own identity, preferences, or moral conscience. Likewise, the perceived “selfishness” of individualism is often vilified and gets cast as evil, which is why it maps onto Hell, but all it really means is placing one’s own perspective at the utmost importance, which can be beneficial depending on who’s doing it.
I’ve seen some incredibly smart commentary on the Good Omens book being a just-barely-post-Cold War novel comparing, among other things, Capitalism (heavy on individualism) and Communism (heavy on collectivism). I thought the analysis I read was brilliant, it told me a lot that I had not thought of before, and I would love to read more. But that’s not what I want to talk about here.
In this essay, I’m really sticking to the terms “individualism” and “collectivism” as they inform the psychologies of individual people (Crowley and Aziraphale). I’m trying to have a discussion that I think is important, because it’s important for humans to have a healthy notion of how individuals fit into their relationships and communities, but my commentary is much more vague and not tied to a specific moment in history. I’m frankly not very qualified to talk about the Cold War, anyway.
Crowley and Aziraphale are a couple of paradoxes. At least, they’re paradoxes until they discover Earth as their true allegiance, at which time they just become two balanced angels of neither Heaven nor Hell.
CROWLEY’S PHILOSOPHY
Crowley knows he’s supposed to represent Hell and the kind of self-interested desperation that drives people to damnation - a kind of extreme individualism. But he’s been condensed into an Earthly being who’s formed relationships and preferences and loves and, gosh, although he wouldn’t admit it, a conscience. Unlike Aziraphale, he’s much more OK with this sense of identity, because individualism is not incompatible with being, well, an individual. But he does struggle with the fact that he’s supposed to be working toward The End Of All Things for his own self-preservation when his real wish is for The Continuation Of All Things.
Most of Crowley’s decisions are framed from his own personal opinions. He approaches the world as he sees fit, which includes accepting his job of damning souls because he has to or he’ll get destroyed. He does what he needs to survive, so you could say he “answers to the higher power of Hell for self-interested reasons,” but for moral purposes, Crowley does not answer to anyone. Interestingly, though, he DOES have a conscience based in his own feelings.
By personality (not because he serves some moral power but because it’s just his personal preference), Crowley does not like certain kinds of cruelty. He’s willing to do his job, but he doesn’t enjoy taking free will away from people, for example. And in most cases, outright violence (like Hastur turning into a pile of worms and eating the telemarketers alive) is not something Crowley is into, either. In this case, the fact that he’s self-motivated means he has enough imagination to grasp what it’s like to be another person, and while he’s willing to upset people/give people the opportunity to damn themselves/generally be inconsiderate in public, Crowley simply does not enjoy the experience of destroying others without giving them a choice.
Oh, and we can’t forget: “You’re supposed to test them, but not to destruction.” It’s Crowley’s personal feelings that lead him to believe Armageddon shouldn’t happen, and Crowley’s personal feelings that lead him to act out against Hell.
With all that said, Crowley feels a profound love for the world and Aziraphale (whether he’ll admit it or not) because he really enjoys it on Earth, and he wants to keep enjoying it. Therefore, all of his “individualism” ends up working in the favor of the “greater good” anyway. In the end, Crowley temporarily loses hope and stops fighting, but by this point, he’s already had his positive effect.
It’s kind of like Terry Pratchett’s powerful quotation about witches being selfish. “All witches are selfish, the Queen had said. But Tiffany's Third Thoughts said: Then turn selfishness into a weapon! Make all things yours! Make other lives and dreams and hopes yours!” Maybe it’s not so intentional on Crowley’s part, but the outcome of his love for Earth and his bond with Aziraphale ends up serving the interests of others.
Crowley’s journey involves a less drastic change than Aziraphale’s. Once he thinks it’s possible to fight for the world and survive, he doesn’t have a single qualm about it, because he answers to his own standards, not anyone else’s.
AZIRAPHALE’S PHILOSOPHY
Aziraphale, on the other hand, has to basically figure out that it’s a good thing to use his own judgment instead of Heaven’s. In doing so, he has to rewrite his belief system and even rework his identity.
Aziraphale knows he’s supposed to represent the collective, Heaven, the Greater Good. But he’s been condensed into an Earthly being who’s formed relationships and preferences and loves and a conscience and an identity of his own. At first, this feels wrong to him, because many of his personal interests go against Heaven’s. It’s why he’s so incredibly good at repressing and denying; he has this sense of Self but doesn’t believe he’s entitled to it and doesn’t realize there is any way to separate from Heaven, so as far as he knows, to allow this Self to grow and flourish would ultimately be extremely painful and potentially dangerous. You can tell the other angels aren’t happy with his sense of self, either, as far as he allows it to go (see: any interaction in the bookshop, Gabriel’s behavior over the sushi).
Aziraphale is so oriented toward the Heavenly collective that he literally denies himself his own judgments, his own opinions. He’s convinced that Heaven is the Greater Good, so he accepts that as reality no matter how absurdly wrong their actions might seem to someone with an iota of common sense. He has not been allowed to have an opinion on it, and he will not form one now. He does intensely enjoy performing altruism and does not approve of Heaven’s plans to drown all of Mesopotamia and turn Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt, but he will even push aside the satisfaction of kindness and the fear of cruelty if he’s told that his feelings don’t fit within the Great Plan.
It’s important to note that as far as Aziraphale believes, the existence of Hell and the work that Crowley is doing for Hell is in fact part of the Great Plan. He says as much to the Archangels when they bully him outside his bookshop.
Aziraphale is enthusiastic and adoring about life on Earth and about humans - and about Crowley! And oh, he does indulge. But he sees this all in a rather passive way, at least at first. He is simply enjoying the world and allowing the Great Plan to unfold. He does not think he has the right or ability to defend the world from Heaven’s judgment, even though he wants to. So, like Crowley’s self-orientation coming full circle to serve the interests of others, Aziraphale’s orientation toward the collective comes full circle to become very self-serving.
THE TWO TOGETHER
Enter Crowley’s judgment. Crowley is really fantastic company, but I think the specific thing he did in the long run was to help Aziraphale see that his own desires and judgments matter. Even when Aziraphale temporarily disavowed their relationship, Crowley’s influence was strong - would the Aziraphale who was standing on the Wall of Eden, or the Aziraphale who witnessed the Great Flood, have chased Gabriel around asking if the war was necessary, or would he have called the Metatron to argue everyone could be saved? Even when Aziraphale doesn’t actually ask questions, these interactions are an assertion of Aziraphale’s own feelings and judgments when he’s being told to be quiet and fall in line. And I really do not think he would have made these assertions before his long Arrangement with Crowley. In this way, Crowley gave Aziraphale the world and the gift of Being Himself.
As for Crowley, he doesn’t care about any Great Plan and thinks Heaven’s will is positively odious, but Aziraphale is convinced that the cosmic dance between the two of them is just ineffable. By playing along with that notion, Crowley allows it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The meaning of Crowley’s existence goes from “just make everyone as miserable as possible” to “balance out Aziraphale” which really means “create a world that doesn’t suck as much as Heaven or Hell, which are both insufferable.” In this way, Aziraphale gave Crowley the world and the gift of Being Part of Something.
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