#sam and autonomy and never belonging to himself and constantly trying and trying and trying

[opheliasam]

among the grating cesspool that is spn youtube clips comment sections… found some peers.. academics.. people who get it if u will

[soullessjack]

so uh suncaptor blocked me and although they can’t see it, i do first want to say i am sorry if I’ve upset them or made them feel like they’re being accused of anything. that wasn’t my intent and never is. but I rlly can’t stress enough that the forefront of the problem with their perspective is inherently seeing jack as an infant within canon. like this isn’t an ableism thing, it’s just a factually wrong thing.

Asmodeus says that Jack is new to the world, but not a child.

Jack says twice that he could not be and is not a child.

The only person to ever call Jack a child is Michael, and he explicitly says so to belittle Jack and make him feel weak.

There is plenty of merit in discussing Jack’s limited experience as a factor in his character, but I’ve only ever seen it taken in the vein that he is infantile and therefore a perpetual victim of everything because of it is, which just wrong by the show’s own portrayal. Not only that, but it does it disregard the actual power imbalance he has with TFW, and how that itself so factors into his character. I don’t know how or why it’s brushed off so much, but Jack is literally “the most powerful being in the universe.” He’s regarded as a threat constantly, and repeatedly expresses the very real fear that he might hurt his family or anybody else in a moment of lost control.

I also feel that the idea of his dynamic being considered as exclusively mistreatment by TFW/the other hunters is just. Not true. Like, Dean’s bullshit lasted for two weeks before he got over himself and he canonically never forgave himself for it for the entire two years he got to know Jack better. And again, Jack is the strongest person in the team. Nothing they have can remotely hurt him, and he’s very much aware of it, hence the sunshiny golden boy act. Jack is constantly trying to make himself appear safer. It’s about being liked, of course, but it’s also about being distinctly Not A Threat Because to jack, That’s Why He’s Hated.

when Mrs Butters states that Jack is so powerful Sam and Dean should be afraid of him, he never outwardly refutes that he’s powerful. he only says “but I would never hurt them.” when Michael is monologuing to him about how powerful he’ll become with age, he “doesn’t want to admit that could be possible.” Jack is very painfully aware of his power and what it means for the people around him, and he’s also very aware of their fear when it’s directed at him. He’s felt that fear.

Jack has an interesting and confusing dynamic with TFW from the start: that he must be protected from harm while also being kept from causing harm himself. re this post about his autonomy, and how he wants to be seen as trustworthy and safe, it’s extremely upsetting to Jack when he thinks that dynamic has shifted or changed. he’s blatantly annoyed to have everybody check up on him and look over his shoulder, to give him food tests for his morality; to not really trust him, especially after all he does for them and to belong with them.

I know a LOT of this stuff stems from Jack In The Box and I understand how and why it did and frankly that episode is its own can of worms so ill be as brief as I can and highlight a few things about JITB first:

• re his limited experience being a factor in his character, jack is incredibly naive to the point of it being a fatal flaw, one he cannot afford to have and is very aware of the cost it comes with. he views his naivety as a weakness, as stupidity, and him “sucking when it matters,” and per his need to be Safe and Trustworthy he is always trying to be Smarter and Stronger and Better and More Capable than his flaws or perceived weaknesses. that is one of the horrors of his character, and one which inherently drives him through all of his arcs, especially agreeing to be locked up under false pretenses because, again, HE KNOWS HE IS DANGEROUS AND WANTS TO BE SAFE.

Dean was reliving his childhood trauma after decades of living with it and never fully recovering from it; he had every reason to be behaving the way he did. His conflict with Jack is very easily summarized as two insanely unstable guys spiraling and hurting each other in their own grief. And again, he spent two years regretting and unforgiving what he did to Jack early on and making concerted efforts to amend for it as a father/friend/mentor. He’s a better parent than he’s given credit for is what I’ll end with.

The box was never going to keep Jack forever. We already knew he would get out. It’s hard to say this in a way that doesn’t undermine the trauma Jack indefinitely has from it, but it cannot physically hurt him and cannot kill him. Sam and Dean tricking him into it is not a threat or imbalanced abuse (and I cannot stress enough, these are not normal healthy people with normal problems or normal healthy solutions). In fact, the entire scene of him breaking out and leering out at them through smoke with pure hatred in his eyes just shows that he is the one on the other side of the imbalance, not them. Jack is the threat, and the dynamic is tense because of it.

I’m kind of losing myself in the ramble, but what I am trying to say is that

A) Jack is not an infant. Never was one, never will be, and he hates being called one because it’s almost always in the context of belittlement and him being weak/incapable. he shows sexual and romantic interest, he has a love interest, he’s regarded as a young adult by everybody who respects him (so not Michael). he wants to pull his own weight, and resents being considered a burden.

B) Jack is not helpless; he is a nigh-omnipotent demigod with apocalyptic levels of power, especially in the case of mental/emotional instability. He deeply fears hurting his loved ones, and strives to have constant control over himself so that he can be safe for them. The power imbalance only lies in his choice to not hurt them, which he has chosen against in those silly fits of rage that nobody ever acknowledges

B+ ) and he isn’t a helpless victim of child abuse either; for all of their dysfunctions and “I might have to kill you”s (which have always been there pre-jack), TFW2.0 does genuinely love each other as a family and make efforts to be better for each other. They’ve faltered before, but again, they aren’t normal people dealing with normal situations and they do not have the liberty to respond normally or even appropriately.

C) Jack’s lack of experience and knowledge is a very real thing, but it’s more about him constantly trying to make the right decisions and earn peoples’ trust in him that he will make them, as well as avoid making the wrong ones because that consistently leads to him hurting people who don’t deserve it. All of which is wrapped up in a little pink bow as to Jack asserting his autonomy/personhood and arguing for his capability/responsibility at any chance.

••

I’m not angry and I’m not ever trying to attack anyone. It’s just incredibly frustrating that this specific misconception fumbles the rest of the discussions people have around jack and only ever makes it harder to have them. which in turn is even more frustrating on a personal level because he’s my special interest and I can never not think about him, but there’s hardly anything to engage with on a broader level

[maddie-grove]

The Top Twenty Books I Read in 2019

My main takeaways from the past year’s reading:

Sometimes you think something is happening because of magic, but then it turns out to have a non-magical explanation so weird that you find yourself saying, “You know what? I wish faeries or God were responsible for this. I’d honestly feel less disturbed.”

Stop bathing and changing your clothes and shaving for three years, three months, and three days. You’ll find out who your real friends are. I promise you that.

I want more books about bisexual ladies!!! Give them to me!!!

Anyway...

20. The Prodigal Duke by Theresa Romain (2017)

Childhood sweethearts Poppy Hayworth and Leo Billingsley were separated when his older brother, a duke, sent him away to make his fortune. Years later, the duke is dead, a financially successful Leo has come back to England to take his place, and Poppy has become a rope dancer at Vauxhall Gardens after a life-shattering event. New sparks are flying between them, but is love possible when so much else has changed? Leo and Poppy are believable and charming as old friends, Romain makes great use of obscure historical details from the oft-depicted Regency period, and I loved Leo’s difficult but caring elderly uncle.

19. Simple Jess by Pamela Morsi (1996)

Althea Winsloe, a young widow in 1900s Arkansas, has no interest in remarrying, but almost everyone in her small Ozarks community is pressuring her to remarry, and she still needs someone to help farm her land. Enter Jesse Best, a strong young man with cognitive disabilities who’s happy to take on the work. As he makes improvements to her farm and bonds with her three-year-old son, Althea gets to know him better and starts to see him in a new light. This earthy romance could’ve been a disaster, but instead it illustrates how people with disabilities are often...uh...simplified and de-sexualized in a way that denies them autonomy. Morsi has a similarly nuanced take on Althea and Jesse’s community, which is claustrophobic and supportive all at once.

18. Leah on the Offbeat by Becky Albertalli (2018)

Outspoken and insecure, bisexual high school senior Leah Burke is having a tough year. Her friend group is in turmoil, her single mom is seriously dating someone, and she’s caught between a sweet boy she’s not sure about and a pretty, perfect straight girl who couldn’t possibly be into her...right??? The sequel to the very cute Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda, Leah on the Offbeat pulls a The Godfather: Part II with its messy protagonist, sweetly surprising romance, and masterful comic set piece involving the Atlanta American Girl Doll restaurant.

17. Copper Sun by Sharon M. Draper (2006)

Kidnapped from her home in eighteenth-century Ghana, fifteen-year-old Amari is sold into slavery and winds up on a South Carolina plantation, where she faces terrible cruelty but finds friends in an enslaved cook, her little son, and eventually a sulky white indentured servant around her age. When their master escalates his already-atrocious behavior, the three young people flee south to the Spanish Fort Mose in search of freedom. Draper’s complicated characters, vivid descriptions, and deft handling of heavy subjects makes for top-notch historical YA fiction.

16. A Prince on Paper by Alyssa Cole (2019)

After her controlling politician father was jailed for poisoning a bunch of people in their small, prosperous African country, Nya Jerami gained unprecedented freedom but also became the subject of vicious gossip. Johan von Braustein, the hard-partying stepson of a European monarch, wants to help her, partly because he sympathizes and partly because he has a crush, but she thinks he’s too frivolous and horny (if wildly attractive). After an embarrassing misunderstanding compels them to enter a fake engagement, though, she begins to wonder if there’s more to him. I’m not a huge fan of contemporary romance, but this novel has the perfect combination of heartfelt emotion, delicious melodrama, and adorable fluff. 

15. One Perfect Rose by Mary Jo Putney (1997)

Stephen, the Duke of Ashburton, has always done the proper and responsible thing, but that all changes when he learns that he’s terminally ill. Wandering the countryside in the guise of an ordinary gentleman, he ends up joining an acting troupe and falling in love with Rosalind, the sensible adopted daughter of the two lead actors. Like another Regency romance on this list, this novel celebrates love in many forms: there’s the love story between Stephen and Rosalind, yes, but there’s also Rosalind’s loving relationship with her adopted family, the new bonds she forms with her long-lost blood relatives, the way her two families embrace the increasingly frightened Stephen, and the healing rifts between Stephen and his well-meaning but distant siblings. Stephen’s reconciliation with his mortality is also moving.

14. My One and Only Duke by Grace Burrowes (2018)

Facing a death sentence in Newgate, footman-turned-prosperous banker Quinton Wentworth decides to do one last good thing: marry Jane McGowan, a poor pregnant widow, so she and the baby will be financially set. Then he receives a pardon and a dukedom at the literal last minute, meaning that he and Jane have a more permanent arrangement than either intended. I fell in love with the kind-but-difficult protagonists almost at once, and with Burrowes’s gorgeous prose even faster. 

13. Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell (2013)

It’s 1986, and comics-loving, post-punk-listening, half-Korean Park and bright, weird, constantly bullied Eleanor are just trying to get through high school in their rough Omaha neighborhood. He’s only grudgingly willing to let her share his bus seat at first, but this barely civil acquaintance slowly thaws into friendship and blossoms into love. Far from being the whimsical eighties-nostalgia-fest I expected, this is a bittersweet love story about two isolated young people who find love, belonging, and a chance for self-expression with each other in an often-hostile environment (a small miracle pre-Internet).

12. Shrill by Lindy West (2016)

In this memoir, Lindy West talks about the difficulties of being a fat woman, the thankless task of being vocally less-than-enthused about rape jokes, the joys of moving past self-doubt, and the very real possibility that Little John from Disney’s Robin Hood was played by “bear actor” Baloo, among other subjects. I was having a hard time during my last semester of law school this past spring, and this book’s giddy humor and inspiring messages really helped me in my hour of need.

11. Seduction: Sex, Lies, and Stardom in Howard Hughes's Hollywood by Karina Longworth (2018)

In 1925, very young businessman Howard Hughes breezed into Hollywood with nothing but tons of family wealth, a soon-to-be-divorced wife, and a simple dream: make movies about fast planes and big bosoms. He got increasingly weird and reactionary over the next thirty years, then retired from public life. More a history of 1920s-1950s Hollywood than a biography, this book has the same sharp writing and in-depth film analysis that makes me love Longworth’s podcast You Must Remember This.

10. The Beguiled by Thomas Cullinan (1966)

In Civil-War-era Virginia, iron-willed Martha Farnsworth and her nervous younger sister try to run their nearly empty girls’ boarding school within earshot of a battlefield. When one girl finds Union soldier John McBurney injured in the woods, she brings him back to the house, where he exploits every conflict and secret among the eight girls and women (five students, two sisters, and one enslaved cook). Charming and manipulative, he nevertheless finds himself in over his head. Cullinan makes great use of the eight POVs and the deliciously claustrophobic setting; it’s fascinating to watch the power dynamics and allegiances shift from scene to scene.

9. A Gentleman Never Keeps Score by Cat Sebastian (2018)

Reserved tavern keeper Sam Fox wants to help out his brother’s sweetheart by finding and destroying a nude portrait she once sat for; disgraced gentleman Hartley Sedgwick isn’t sure what he wants after having his life ruined twice over, but he happened to inherit his house from the man who commissioned the painting...plus he’s not exactly reluctant to assist kind, handsome Sam in his quest. I wrote about this heart-melting romance two times last year; suffice it to say that it’s not only one of the best Regencies I’ve ever read, but also possibly the best romance I’ve ever read about the creation of a found family.

8. Frog Music by Emma Donoghue (2014)

Blanche Beunon, a French-born burlesque dancer in 1876 San Francisco, has a lot going on: her mooching boyfriend has turned on her, her sick baby is missing, and her cross-dressing, frog-hunting friend Jenny Bonnet was just shot dead right next to her. In the middle of a heat wave, a smallpox epidemic, and a little bit of mob violence, she must locate her son and solve Jenny’s murder. This is a glorious work of historical fiction; you can see, hear, smell, and feel the chaotic world of 1870s San Francisco, plus Blanche’s character arc is amazing.

7. The Patrick Melrose novels (Never Mind, Bad News, Some Hope, Mother’s Milk, and At Last) by Edward St. Aubyn (1992, 1992, 1994, 2005, and 2012, respectively)

Born to an embittered English aristocrat and an idealistic American heiress, Patrick Melrose lives through his father’s sadistic abuse and his mother’s willful blindness (Never Mind),  does a truly staggering amount of drugs in early adulthood (Bad News), and makes a good-faith effort at leading a normal life (Some Hope). Years later, the life he’s built with his wife and two sons is threatened by his alcoholism and reemerging resentment of his mother (Mother’s Milk), but there may be a chance to salvage something (At Last). Despite the suffering and cruelty on display, these novels were the farthest thing from a dismaying experience, thanks to the sharp characterization, grim humor, and great sense of setting. Also, I love little Robert Melrose, an anxious eldest child after my own heart. 

6. The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope (1974)

In 1550s England, no-nonsense Kate Sutton is exiled to the Perilous Gard, a remote castle occupied by suspicious characters, including the lord’s guilt-ridden younger brother Christopher. Troubled by the holes she sees in the story of the tragedy that haunts him, she does some problem-solving and ends up in a world of weird shit. Cleverly plotted, deliciously spooky, and featuring an all-time-great heroine, this book was an absolute treat. The beautiful Richard Cuffari illustrations in my edition didn’t hurt, either.

5. An Unconditional Freedom by Alyssa Cole (2019)

Daniel Cumberland, a free black man from New England traumatized from being sold into slavery, and Janeta Sanchez, a mixed-race Cuban-Floridian lady from a white Confederate family, have been sent on a mission to the Deep South by the Loyal League, a pro-Union spy organization. Initially hostile to everyone (but particularly to somewhat naive Janeta), Daniel warms to his colleague, but will her secrets, his shattered faith in justice, and the various dangers they face prevent them from falling in love? Nah. Alyssa Cole’s historical romances deliver both on the history and the romance, and this is one of her strongest entries.

4. The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics by Olivia Waite (2019)

Heartbroken by the death of her father and the marriage of her ex-girlfriend, Lucy Muchelney decides she needs a change of scenery and takes a live-in position translating a French astronomy text for Catherine St. Day, the recently widowed Countess of Moth. Catherine, used to putting her interests on hold for an uncaring spouse, is intrigued by this awkward, independent lady. I’ve read f/f romances before, but this sparkling Regency was the first to really blow me away with its fun banter, neat historical details, and perfect sexual tension.

3. The Wager by Donna Jo Napoli (2010)

After losing his entire fortune to a tidal wave, Sicilian nineteen-year-old Don Giovanni de la Fortuna sinks into poverty and near-starvation. Then Devil makes him an offer: all the money he wants for as long as he lives if he doesn’t bathe, cut his hair, shave, or change his clothes for three years, three months, and three days. This fairy-tale retelling is an extraordinarily moving fable about someone who learns to acknowledge his own suffering, recognize it in others, and extend compassion to all. 

2. Vampires in the Lemon Grove by Karen Russell (2013)

In this collection, Russell weaves strange tales of silkworm-women hybrids in Japan, seagulls who collect objects from the past and future, and, yes, vampires in the lemon grove. She also posits the very important question: “What if most (but not all) U.S. presidents were reincarnated as horses in the same stable and had a lot of drama going on?” My favorite stories were “Proving Up” (about a nineteenth-century Nebraska boy who encounters death and horror on the prairie), “The Graveless Doll of Eric Mutis” (about a disadvantaged high school student who discovers an effigy of the even more hapless boy he tormented), and “The Barn at the End of the Term” (the horse-president story). 

1. The Wonder by Emma Donoghue (2016)

Lib Wright, an Englishwoman who has floundered since her days working for Florence Nightingale during the Crimean War, is hired to observe Anna O’Donnell, an eleven-year-old Irish girl famous for not eating for four straight months. With a jaundiced attitude towards the Irish and Catholicism, Lib is confident that she’ll quickly expose Anna as a fraud, but she finds herself liking the girl and getting increasingly drawn into the disturbing mystery of her fast. Like The Perilous Gard, this novel masterfully plays with the possibility of the supernatural, then introduces a technically mundane explanation that’s somehow much more eerie. Donoghue balances the horror and waste that surrounds Anna, though, with the clear, bright prose and the moving relationship that develops between her and Lib, who grows beyond her narrow-mindedness and emotional numbness. I stayed up half the night to finish this novel, which cemented Emma Donoghue’s status as my new favorite author.