You know I’d start with a poem, but my Titus Andronicus isn’t
quite what it should be.
Knowing yourself. How others know you. Gosh, didn’t I just write something
something something for the last BtVS episode
on this score. Of course. Always.
A story. A curling slashing line of black ink dividing waiting paper.
The journey through time of individuals. The line. The
dimensionality, the 3-D rise and fall and rise and rise of it, is how
those individuals respond to what occurs. In a great story, the
dimensions deepen and shade the more we learn of the past. The more
the past fills in with the future. The more we peel away
at River’s Russian doll drawings to get to the real you.
Because I suppose the other yous were fake. Or not. Perhaps, as I always
argue they are aspects of the whole. Some being
affectations like a black mustache. All the better to twirl while doing
crime.
Mal’s easy smile hiding the mad determination to protect his people.
The preacher with his secrets. The Companion. Even as
she complimented the Councilor, I wondered, is Innara a reliable narrator?
Is she just saying what the Councilor wants to hear?
Needs to hear, so the Councilor can be herself. Relaxed. Or is Innara
revealing an essential truth? Letting down a barrier a
little. Perhaps it’s both. Revealing in order to conceal.
Wandering the boards, it’s interesting to see some of frofragh about
Innara and the Councilor. Good idea versus Suicidal
storytelling. Fresne pivots to the left and says, contextually irrelevant.
That’s not part of my analysis. To my mind, the scene is
there because it is directly relevant to the theme of the episode and
is in direct opposition to Niska’s argument. Connection
coming not through adversity/experience inflicted, but adversity/experience
shared. Mal and Zoe are comfortable together
because she trust him. They have a history together. Together they
went to gaze into the volcano. And they came back to tell
the tale.
When you are with people who know, who share some common thing, like
being a woman, or a man, or a sharing a history, or
whatever, barriers can drop. All of a sudden, certain things don’t
have to be explained.
At opposite ends, we have two people looking for true natures. Niksa,
who tortures with a smile. People in their place.
Business running smoothly. Gazing from across the abyss, River attempts
to stand. River, who was tortured. Stripped of her
barriers. Chaos floods in.
It seems to me that if two men go to the lip of a volcano. The one being
pushed into the flames learns just as much as the man
doing the pushing. Or better yet, the Cask of Amontillado. In that
moment of being bricked into the wall, Fortunato learns far
more about Montressor than all of his previous years of knowing. In
torturing those who cross him, Niska mimes at desiring to
know his victim’s true nature, but what he’s really attempting to define
is his own.
See me. I am the monster than men fear. I am great. I am powerful.
River wants to be a girl, but never will be again. For awhile each day,
the sun that she danced under in Safe comes out, but then
the sun grows dark and the chaos is come again. Like apples that carry
death, the fruit comes up in bits. She is fortunate at
least that she has a brother to trust. Who will always see her as his
beautiful Mei Mei. Throw up on his bed and it’s only
confirmation. Yup, that’s his sister. It’s there in her smile. Even
if she does not know herself, Simon will know her. Know the
girl that she was. Will love the person that that girl has become.
So many people have seen so many things in River’s repetition of Kayee’s
line. To me her smile was shy. As if to say, I’ve
revealed a little bit of myself to you. The hidden part that isn’t
trees and unicorns and rainbows. Do you still love me? Sadly at
this point, Kaylee and River’s relationship is superficial. Two laughing
girls. Kaylee, of all of them, has the least experience with
the bitter taste of tainted fruit. I bet he brings her flowers. A dreamer
is our Kaylee. However, she had the misfortune to leave
her world and take up ship into the Jossverse. Where things rarely
stay shiny.
In upcoming episodes, we’ll see how Kaylee deals with her new self knowledge.
Her knowledge of previously held
conceptions of others. Will she judge herself for failing to live up
to some previously held ideal of self? Will she be able to adjust
to her know vision of River, this slight damaged girl? How will it
affect how she relates to Simon? All I can be sure of in a Joss
story is that things will change.
Then we have so recently betraying Jayne, giving his crewmates fruit.
So, unexpected a gesture that it causes unease rather than
any sort of connection. Then again it’s a guilt thing. More usefully
real when he joins the group to rescue the Captain. Their
Captain, my Captain. (yes, I do realize the irony of the quote). Contrasted
to the repetition of Jayne alone in his bunk. Yes, it’s
crude and fairly funny, but also essentially sad. For some reason the
whole heading for this bunk, Jayne get your gun sequence
makes me think of that scene in Grosse Pointe Blanke where the main
character looks at himself in the mirror, loads his gun and
says, “This is me breathing.” Not sure why, so we’ll resolve with Zoe
and Wash.
There are a couple of points where Zoe and Wash fail to connect in the
episode. Her lie about her opinion of Wash’s idea. His
incomprehension of Zoe and Mal’s bond. Barriers that wear away a bit
as the episode progresses.
Wash both looses a little shiny-ness in this episode and comes to new
level of understanding of his wife. Of Mal. Of war
stories. Of himself. That he is one of those who does not leave anyone
behind. Part of unisex suicide team. Zoe and Wash
showing each other that they can be trusted. Making their own history.
That they are a suicide team that will be in their bunk
thank you very much.
