Merlin

It's adorable! Mean King Giles is fabulous--thank you, whoever is responsible for putting Anthony Head into medieval garb and short hair with a crown. He is so very very awesome. And Merlin is a skinny boy, all cheekbones and big eyes and downtrodden heroics, with a fairly useless mentor person named Gaius. Imagine! I know it's the most common Roman name, and even Julius Caesar had it as a first name, but Gaius to me is always and forever Baltar. Do you suppose the name Guy came from Gaius? Except it's pronounced gee, but that doesn't matter. French pronunciation has been all around the block and back in two thousand years.

Where was I?

Merlin! Right. It's adorable indeed. I like Merlin and of course Arthur is an excellent sort of football player golden boy who's loyal to his father and does all the right things. I can't think when I've ever seen a pairing like that before. Well, I mean, Apollo. Come to think of it. Golden boys who are good boys seem to be a kind of 1950s thing that I would be so happy to see come back into existence. You can be good and still be awesome! You do not have to be some kind of lame rebellious youth!

There is actually a Norman Rockwell calendar at work, from the disabled veterans, of course. Unironic self-referentiality is something you'd better enjoy if you live around here.

I was trying to explain decadence in art one day. When was that? How it's not a judgment but an actual phenomenon, a way of representing one thing as another instead of making the thing itself beautiful or functional or letting it be itself. Love of artifice for the sake of artifice.

Well anyway. Merlin was also kind of aimed at eight year olds, which made it a little hard to manage. Though at least they got the concept that the story must be clear, unlike A Certain Show that has lost its way story-wise. But the two I saw were all gross-out humor and really broad strokes and fart jokes. But then at the end there was an awesome moment where Arthur goes to pat Merlin on the shoulder, and Merlin thinks he's going for a hug, and there's an excellent awkward thing and I just wondered, how on earth do you write that? And how brilliant to write such a thing into a show, because it perfectly encapsulates their relationship.

So there's that.

Mostly there's this whole giant monster weight of all of Arthurian legend on top of everything. How can you watch this and not think about it? Granted I taught Arthurian legend as a class, and I've read pretty much every medieval text there is from the tradition. But still!

You have Arthur, who's going to be king and unite the various warring kingdoms under one banner to fight a common enemy. You have Merlin, who's going to be a mighty wizard who saves Arthur's bacon half the time.

I love seeing remakes. Do you know why they're the best thing ever? Because that's how literature always used to be, for all of recorded time, until about the 1800-1900s, and now it is again. I can't explain why we stopped for a while. I mean, I could try, but I'd be guessing at best, and I don't know enough about it. Probably Romanticism and the cult of the individual. Or else industrialization which brought cheap duplication and copyright law. Maybe a combination of the two.

But remakes! Or maybe I mean retreads, like Battlestar was a completely different version of a previous story. Or the way everyone remakes A Christmas Carol eighteen million different ways. Plays that can be put on over and over with different actors in all crazy different ways.

That's ALIVE, that's what that is. That's a story that's alive. We want more! We want it again!

So I'm very happy to see the Arthur/Merlin story getting told again. Why do we love it so much? Is it because of destiny? We do love a good destiny story, it's true.

And Michelle Ryan only had to sit there looking pretty most of the time in Merlin, which she does very well--she's very pretty--but then she totally came through with expressions and reactions and who knows, maybe she got a whole lot better, yay! I would love that. Remember watching Grace Park learn to act infinitely better on Battlestar? Remember how awful Boreanaz used to be before he got better? I love that because people can grow and learn and change. Like the stories, no?

I suddenly came up with a Little Red Riding Hood story yesterday after showing my sister the place where the coyote dug into the snowbank to get at the mice. You know mice make all these tunnels in the grass under the snow, so that when it melts, there are runways and nests clearly marked. Well, something about that gave me an idea, at long last. Or maybe it was being around my sister. If a wolf came to eat her, she would scratch its ears and give it a steak and have it sleeping on the foot of her bed and defending the house in no time flat.

Isn't that also what you do with a story? You find a way that it fits into your own world and tell it again. Battlestar was half about 9/11 and the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. But it was also about hatred and racism and survivalism and militarism and making our lives the way you know they should be. It was about despair and hope and religion and impossible things.

Which all makes me wonder what I would do if I were going to tell the Battlestar story my own way. What a mind-bender! But it's not like it was new in the 70s. It's the Exodus. It's one of the oldest stories we have around. Though not as old as Gilgamesh. Boy, I'd love to see Gilgamesh retold in a brilliant way. Maybe I'll think about doing that myself.

Carrie Ryan does it right

Carrie Ryan, ladies and gentlemen. Remember how infuriating it was when the main character of that one book (and its sequel) kept on doing the thing she knew not to do, just because she was sulky or whatever? And I didn't know whether that was a trope or bad writing?

Well! I discovered what it was. Doing things you're not supposed to do is a perfectly fine and common YA literary trope, but only when the character has some kind of motivation for doing it that makes sense. Yay!

Carrie Ryan's The Dead-Tossed Waves, the cover of which features a fetching young zombie in her nightie washing up on the beach, starts out with a character who does something extremely stupid and dangerous, breaking essentially the only rule of their society. But why? Because she's sulky and bratty? No! Because this cute boy is going and he likes her and she likes him! And he asks her specifically! And he stands kind of close to her in the darkness!

See. That is fabulous motivation for a YA character of YA age! I read that and I think, "Obviously!" I could totally see doing exactly the same thing.

Whereas the whole "I know better and it endangers everyone I care about but so?" kind of thing just makes me tired. That thing...I know it's there to push the plot forward. But it doesn't have to be pointless endangerment to do that. It can be pointful!

For example:

That character is a runner. She could have the unbearable claustrophobic drive to get out of the house and go running. She could call everyone to see if they would go with her, but they're all unavailable. She could try riding the stationary bike but go crazy from the heat and dry air of the house and absolutely have to get outside or else explode. That's maybe neurotic but at least self-consistent.

Or: She could hear someone in distress outside. A person! A cat! A flapping bird! Even though she knows not to go outside, she has to go help. I could relate to that! Anyone could!

Or: She could be going about her normal business, on the way to school or to go to the library or a concert or I don't know, the bead store. I had to go to the bead store! I was all out of beads for...my grandmother's birthday present! And it's tomorrow!

See what I'm saying? MOTIVATION.

This writer didn't give her motivation most of the time when the character deliberately walked out into danger. I shut the book after the most recent time. Enough.

I don't mind if people do stupid things, as long as there's a reason. It can even be a dumb reason. But if it's always a selfish reason that reeks of lazy writing, I'm not going to like that character or that writer anymore.

I *really* don't like when I'm reading something and instead of seeing what someone would do or the pressure of events, I see giant creaking plot machinery pushing a character to do something. Hey! That was my suspension of disbelief you just stomped on! I close your book and walk away!

Robot Roman Rory, I am looking at you. In fact, I'm all fiercely glaring and stuff.

I don't think characters have to do dumb stuff or make mistakes for events to unfold. In fact, I'm positive that it's much better writing if they're doing something perfectly legitimate or even going a step beyond, like making extra effort to do something awesome, and that instigates events. Maybe one of those excellent internal/external struggle things, right? Like say your character is struggling with self-worth and its obvious external metaphor/representation, money! Just for example. And therefore steps out of normal daily routine to apply for a job when she sees a sign posted on that store down in that old strip mall with the garage at the end where the very tall silent Iraq vet fixes cars perfectly but freaks everyone out with his scary PTSD so no one goes there, but she does because he works for cheap and her car is busted.

Nobody did anything stupid. Nobody spent two pages going, "I shouldn't do this for the following excellent reasons, but I am going to anyway, because I'm a selfish brat." Obviously it's bad storytelling, but also BOY is that not an attractive quality in a person.

Actually that's a thing I see online more often than I'd like, that defiant story about doing a stupid, selfish, or rude thing. I mean, knock yourself out, whatever, but I don't think it's the most appealing thing to tell people about. Is it? Or is the idea that we're all selfish and so we will relate to that? Do people like to read that sort of thing? What do you think when you read that? Is this that whole thing about bragging about being an asshole that I ran into a while back? I get really turned off by that, but do other people enjoy it? Is it a power thing? It seems gratuitously transgressive and manipulative. I'm bad, look at me! You must participate or condemn!

It seems very teenager, which I guess is why I wondered if it was a YA thing in particular.

You may not have spent as much extended time recently with the 18-22 age bracket as I have with all the teaching, but there is this thing they do.

Teenaged personage: Says flagrantly provocative thing.

Old person (me): Tries to turn it aside without engaging either to agree or disagree.

Teenaged personage: But, flagrantly provocative thing!

Old person (me): Changes the subject.

And so on. If you teach college (or are around children, come to think of it) you learn quickly how to be No Fun At All in these situations. Oh, I quell.

Actually it seems to apply to toddlers just as well. I'm doing something I'm not supposed to! What are you going to do about it? So is it just to get attention? I mean, in terms of a character doing bratty things, does the character just want attention? Testing behavior tests the rules of the world and tests reactions from people and tests the limits of what the person can get away with. Maybe that character is really just seeking attention and all her idiotic self-endangerment is a cry for help. Could be that simple, I guess.

Now I want to find out what happens in the story with the person who goes to get her car fixed with the scary PTSD guy and applies for the job in that store in the strip mall. Hmmm! See you later!