Tired

Short post tonight. I'm super tired. I'll go to bed pretty soon and hopefully sleep through the night. That hasn't been happening a lot lately, but maybe this time. 

Last Weekend in May

May was strange. May was painful. People I love lost people they love this May. The weather was odd. Things were stressful. I should have spent the month preparing things for summer. I did not.

Anyway, it will be June on Tuesday. I'm not ready for it, but it isn't like I have a choice in the matter. Sigh. Oh well. I'll make the best of it.  

More JRRT Commentary

Goddamn. 

I love Fingolfin. 

Okay.

So here he is, the first son of a second wife. The middle child of five if you count the daughters. The middle child of three if you just count the sons.

Feanor is his older brother. Feanor hates him and his mother and the very idea of him. Feanor calls him 'half-brother' despite Fingolfin's insistence they full brothers in their hearts. He looks like Feanor, only.....taller.

Fingolfin is the son who helps rule. His older brother, the Crown Prince, would rather wander Aman or be in his forge or father children or cause problems. Fingolfin helps his father rule. His people love him. As Feanor starts to go crazy, Fingolfin asks his father to maybe kind of step in.

For this, Feanor draws a sword on him in public. They get into a fight, even though Fingolfin is trying his best to deescalate the situation as it is happening. The Valar step in and banish Feanor. 

Their father goes with him. Their father CHOOSES Feanor over him, leaving him to rule the Noldor while they just walk away like it means nothing. 

The Valar tell him that Feanor will come and apologize. It's A THING. Fingolfin forgives him instantly and tells him that he loves him and he will follow him. Anywhere. This happens basically as Melkor destroys the Trees and in the confusion of that, Fingolfin's father is killed. He is killed because he was trying to protect something of Feanor's. Always Feanor. Always first.

Fingolfin follows his older (half-)brother out of Aman. He kills for him. Feanor betrays him and forces him to walk over ice to get to the Easter lands. He makes the march, even though their younger brother runs back to the Valar. He loses his daughter-in-law on the ice, which basically means he loses the mind of his son. He loses his youngest son when they cross to the other side.

Even if he was angry with Feanor, it doesn't matter. Feanor is dead. Fingolfin's oldest son rescues Feanor's son from torture. Said oldest son decides Fingolfin will rule them. He becomes High King. He basically becomes the only father figure for his siblings' children. They establish lands and kingdoms and thrive for several centuries. 

His second son walks away from him and establishes a secret kingdom he won't let anyone visit. He loses his daughter to a madman. He basically loses his only niece to the nephew of another man who is...perhaps not insane, but paranoid, angry, and powerful. 

When Melkor attacks again, he attacks with fire and death. Fingolfin challenges him to single combat. He wounds him seven times. The wounds never heal. Melkor hobbles until he dies. He never leaves Angband again.

He still kills Fingolfin, of course. It was an elf fighting a god. But still, Fingolfin.....a middle son who was also somehow a first son, a father, and a king who was never respected by his father or king, managed to wound a being far more powerful than he was. 

Glorious. 

Summer Slice

Ever since he was old enough to be left by himself (which was significantly younger than he should have been), my brother spent every free moment of summer down at the public swimming pool. It was his summer THING. In fact, his birthday gift from my grandparents used to be a summer pass to the pool. He always made good use of it.

The summer pass and parental neglect in the name of 'independence' meant my brother rode his bike to and from the pool. The adults viewed this as something he would enjoy. Fun. 'Exercise' would chime in the grandmother who was always on my ass about my weight. The fact that the pool was across town and a rough little haul on a bike was never mentioned. 

One time, someone stole his shoes while he was at the pool. My brother's bike was that kind with spikes on the peddles to give them extra grip. Despite that, he rode home anyway. His feet were not in great shape when he got here. 

I don't remember if they took him to the doctor. I remember them bitching at him. Why didn't he call them? Why didn't he ask for a ride from one of his friends' parents? Why didn't he make sure his stuff was safe? 

He couldn't answer any of that. He didn't answer any of that. I had no idea what to say at the time. But as an adult, I DO know the answer. 

My brother did not do any of that stuff because he was a CHILD. He was a child too young to be on his own at the park. He was a child who grew up poor, who hated asking anyone for ANYTHING. He was a child who was praised most often for his independence, a word probably most defined in his head as 'not being a burden' and this definition probably constituted the core of who he was. 

Would I have done the same thing? I would like to say no. I would like to believe I would have asked for help or called for help. I would like to believe I wouldn't have damaged my feet in order NOT to be a burden. 

It isn't true though. My grandparents and mother had us so twisted up about being burdens that one time when I was 18 and she abandoned us, I waited a whole week before I told my grandparents. 

I am older now. Older and still poor and disabled. I have to ask for help all the time. I have to ask for help in a myriad of ways. I never ask without that old shame filling me. I try to fight it. I try to reason it away. I sometimes go through whole days of feeling a lot of self-loathing. 

At the same time, the situation is what it is. It is, it is, it is. And I can't go through life with ripped up feet.

Dark Days

May has been a month of little sunlight. We've been overcast for weeks now. It's rained a lot. Today was one of the better days we've had, though the heat on the general humid air was pretty awful.

It's making me tired and emotional. I really dislike it when I can feel my emotions looming around me, with no logic or reason as to why they're being like this. It isn't fun.

Aside from all of that, the day was peaceful. I caught up to the current point on the new fic I was reading. Tomorrow Sims is giving us a free update where we can have up to 20 Likes and Dislikes. I'm going to create a crabby Sim who dislikes 20 things. Bwahaha.

Cross Fics and Trope Subversion/Commentary

Spoilers for The Silmarillion, ASOIAF theories, etc.

TW: Discussion of abduction and rape.

One of the things I'm finding fascinating about reading this JRRT/GRRM crossover is how it addresses the tropes and commonalities from one work to the other. Many of these are to be expected of course. Tolkien laid a lot of the foundation for fantasy. Many people drew inspiration from his work, including Martin. Martin has talked extensively about Tolkien and certain frustrations he has with what the man did. There are many elements of the older man's work that Martin tried to subvert or, at least, swerve around. 

One of these tropes is the 'orphaned child conceived in abduction/rape." In Tolkien's work, Aredhel, only daughter of Fingolfin, only one of two female grandchildren of Finwe, is a dark-haired and independent character who leaves her safe city and is abducted by Eol. Eol weaves magic around her to keep her from finding her way out of his lands. They have a son and he forbids her from seeking out her family or even speaking her own language. Eventually, she and their son escape. She goes back to her brother's city. Eol follows and demands they return. When he finds that he isn't allowed to leave, he tries to kill their son. Aredhel steps in front of the weapon and dies. Eol is thrown from the walls of the city. Years later, their son betrays them to Morgoth and the city is destroyed. 

Martin does some subversion to this trope. Lyanna Stark is the only daughter of her generation. She has dark hair and is independent. She is abducted by the Crown Prince. This is basically the backdrop for Robert's Rebellion.  This starts a war. Of course, this is also the backdrop for the Trojan War. Women being kidnapped is a big literary device. Sigh. 

Anyway, the major theory (that actually plays out as true in the show) is that Jon is Lyanna's son. She and Rhaegar are actually in love and they marry. She dies due to childbirth complications. Instead of being the biggest traitor in the history of his people, Jon will probably turn out to be the hero. 

But this is the neat thing about the cross fic. Celegorm is the first person to find out the truth about Jon's parents. Howland Reed even suggests that perhaps it wasn't an abduction. Maybe they were in love. 

Celegorm and Aredhel were very close friends. He mourns her death, the manner of it, and has an intense hatred for the man who did it. In this reality, he knew Lyanna for several years before she was taken. To him, she basically WAS Aredhel and to have her ripped from his life in the same way his cousin was in his last life just almost breaks him. 

When he finds out that Jon is Rhaegar's son, he isn't in awe or relieved or happy about it. He's horrified.....because even if Lyanna thought she loved Rhaegar, it was still a fucked up situation. She was far younger than he was. He was married. Everything was done in this shady way. She stilled died horribly. 

From Celegorm's perspective, this repeat of history, even with subtle changes, is no better than what happened before. He chooses NOT to tell Jon the truth. He tells Jon that his mother was amazing and a great hunter and a great rider. He tells Jon her name was Aredhel, because, to him, it's basically true. 

Cross Fic

So. I'm reading my first cross fic. It's JRRT/GRRM. The idea is that the Oath taken by Feanor and his sons doesn't send them to the Void. It sends them out into the ether and into other worlds. They are born again in Westeros.

Maedhros is a Tully, born between Lysa and Edmure. When Lysa marries Jon Arryn, she gives birth to Amrod and Amras, some many years later.

Maglor is a bastard son of Oberyn's, the second child again. Only Obara is older. Celegorm is a bastard son of Brandon Stark (Ned's brother) and his mother was raised a Forrester but is actually a Targ bastard. So Celegorm has two layers of bastard for himself!

Caranthir is Kevan Lannister's oldest child and four years older than Curufin Baratheon, the oldest child of Robert and Cersei. He's the heir and Joffery HATES him. 

All of the placements make sense. I can't wait to see where it goes. 

Cloudy Month

It has been so dark and dismal all month. We've had very few bright days. It's kept it from getting too hot, which is nice, but it's also been hell on the senses. 

I need to do a facemask tomorrow. I also need to start transitioning my winter stuff to my spring stuff. If nothing else, I need to clean some fans and set them in place. I may not need them for a bit, but it's still best I have them ready for when I do.

Quiet

I'm not sure how long this will be, but my posts may be a bit scattered for a while. I feel like I'd gotten better about them, but some more stuff happened and now I just need to process for a while. 

It's weird that it's so far into May. It feels like it shouldn't be this close to summer yet. We've had massive cloud cover for weeks now. The gray skies aren't helping matters, but I know they'll end soon enough. 

To Your Soul

Orville Peck covered "Smalltown Boy." It's a far more Western, far more cowboy version of the song. I love it. I love what it represents. Peck has a very passionate voice, even when he's still hamming up his country persona. I'm honestly glad he arrived on the scene, with his masked face, Grand Ole Opry aesthetic, and classy queerness. It's what we all needed. 

Case in point, of course, is the cover. "Smalltown Boy" has probably made me cry every time I've seen the video because it just cuts so deeply. The part where his dad won't shake his hand just rips me apart. The song could be any weird kid, any queer kid, any lost kid who needs to just get away from the strick and unyielding situation they're in. 

Peck captures the pain and loneliness of the song. He captures the despair of it and the strength of it. It's glorious and welcoming and understanting. It's the kind of cover that I think will reach people and help them, soothe them.  

Staring at the Sun

I've been reading Eldritcher's Song of Sunset, a JRRT fanfic series. It's amazing. This writer is so very good. Sometimes the stories don't quite square with one another, but that happens with any long-ranging fanfic. The links are broken to some of the larger pieces. I hope those get fixed because I want to read all of it.

It's a retelling of Maedhros and, while I have by no means exhausted all of the retellings out there, this one is beautiful and dark and deep and brilliant. A lot of the time, the pov characters are people around him, discussing how he is affecting their lives and the impact they had on him. Even after he dies, Artanis is still carrying on his work, so his influence is felt. 

In the last series of stories, one of them talks about the reason behind why he is often seen watching the sun. The reveal is so heartbreaking that I wept. Then I started listening to U2's "Staring at the Sun" over and over again, still reeling from the impact of what happened. THAT, oh my brothahs and sistahs, is damned good writing. 

Castlevania Season 4 Thoughts

 Okay, so Spoilers for season 4

Netflix needs to start telling folks two seasons ahead of time that they plan to cancel them. That way showrunners have enough time to produce shows that end in a satisfying way. I think this is the main point and the main problem I've had with just about every Netflix show's ending. It just needed more episodes to make it feel RIGHT. 

Castlevania is no exception. Admittedly, it took me a minute to come to this conclusion. I ENJOYED what they offered. It was beautiful. It worked. Just....not enough.

The biggest problem is that they never really brought their plotlines together. People. DO NOT START PLOTLINES UNLESS YOU PLAN TO MERGE THEM TOGETHER. I don't care how far afield you fling characters. That's fine. But you find a way to bring the various plots together by the ending. If not, you wasted everyone's time. 

In the case of Castlevania, we had two groups of characters who NEVER MET ONE ANOTHER. Both sets had Dracula in common, but only during the second season. Past that, both sets continued to have storylines, but those plots never converged. This was useless. And needless. There was a place where it could have happened and didn't, but by then, we were so far into the season it would have felt clunky. However, with another season, it would not have felt that way. 

The show relied too much on McGuffins, but also failed to make them feel earned. In the second season, we were first introduced to the magic mirrors and what they could do, they sounded so very rare. The Belmonts had one. Dracula had one. In the third season, one character's whole story arc was about finding a small one for communication and then a larger one for transport.

This season, everyone has a magic mirror. The crappy enemies have them. The less crappy enemy has one. One guy gets his small magic mirror from some random wizard in the castle. Off-screen. 

The town where Lisa was killed for witchcraft is suddenly full of an underground stash of magical items because their king and queen were wizards. And not just small magical items! Trevor finds a couple of significantly powerful things, including the McGuffin needed to kill a god. That isn't a major plot point though. He just randomly finds stuff to put that weapon together. Oh, and also, there is ANOTHER GIANT MAGIC MIRROR DOWN THERE.

Look, I get there is some videogame logic at play here, but this is when you have to pull away from game logic and focus on narrative flow. 

How to fix it? As I said, two seasons. The first season of the vampire/forgemaster arc would be about reflection on what they want to do with their lives. Don't make Carmilla go crazy because, honestly, the 'smart woman who wants power goes crazy' trope needs to die. Carmilla was introduced as focused and very chill. Making her crazy-so-she-has-to-die was lazy (and rather dangerous) writing. Have Isaac attack, but stop the battle when he and Hector talk about what they really want out of things. Have Lenore comment that she feels the same way. By the end of their collective arc, they've gotten Striga and Morana back and everyone is in agreement that Dracula should not come back. Hector knows where this is going to happen, so they go there to stop it, arriving mid-battle like Sypha and Trev do. 

Alucard and Trevor/Sypha stuff is fine, but needs more detail, especially in terms of Trevor understanding the weapons. No going through the mirror until the end of the season and make it a bigger deal for that to happen. Also, don't reveal the alchemical betrayal until the very end of the first season. Saint Germain's flashback can be the first episode of the second season. 

The second episode and onward should have been that battle and what happens afterward. Two episodes of the lower part of the castle. Two episodes of them battling the completely amazing (and basically wasted) group of wizards and necromancers waiting on the upper floors. An episode where they try to get into the room/Death reveals himself. An episode where they are in the room and trying to stop what is happening. An episode where Drac and Lisa are in the body and all hell breaks loose. Trevor battles Death episode. Then the rest of the season can wrap up where we go from here.

And in terms of that, I think the wisest idea would have been for Alucard and everyone else to agree that it IS best that a new Vampire Council takes the whole area as their domain, with full support and all. It's been very clear for the last two seasons that everyone functions better when there is a strong, dangerous, but stable vampiric leadership going on. It keeps all the necromancers and weird cultists and evil priests in line. The four sisters, the two forge masters, Alucard, and even the other two hunters would form the basis of this Council and keep things as peaceful as possible. If anything has been proven over the last two seasons, it's that Dracula was the most stable force in the land...until he went insane. Something needs to fill that vacuum or nothing will get better. 

But...it's easy for me to reconstruct the plotlines when I wasn't the one under pressure to do it for Netflix. I get that. And before anyone thinks I hated this, I really didn't I loved it. Some of the battle scenes were so beautiful I had to watch them several times, especially the one with Carmilla. That's the thing though, I loved this so much that I know it deserved more.

Cancelation

They canceled Prodigal Son. I loved this show. They have one episode left, but I'm going to ignore it. My headcanon of this show ends with Martin speeding a boat to freedom with his damaged son asleep in the back, Ainsley in the room with a deranged killer who could teach her many things, and their mother aware that she was capable of killing someone by sins of omission.  

I daresay that is a good ending for the show. 

Spoiled Cat II

Tonight we have another situation of the cat trying her best to remove my ability to see anything. She's staying in my line of sight and when I move here, she howls and claws me. I moved her anyway. For the moment, she's on my shoulder.

Shoulder Cat is doing her best to put as much weight on as much of my arm as possible. She's basically putting it to sleep. I'm sure this is just a plan to be relocated to my chest again. Sigh.

Spoiled Cats

Writing is difficult tonight because the cat is between me and all access to the keyboard. I moved her three times and finally just gave up. Needless to say, this will be a short post. 

The cat is spoiled.

Another Mother's Day Post

I recently ate a pear. I like the taste of pears, but honestly, I believe my truest enjoyment of them comes from their colors. The various greens, yellows, golds, and sometimes browns are so stunning when done in the texture of pear skin and the inside is one of the most beautiful neutrals around. When I eat pears, it's always about the feast for my eyes more than it is the taste of it. 

It's always also about my mom. I've mentioned before that my mom was a painter when she was a teen. I have a few of her pieces, but the majority of them burned during House Fire #1. One of those pieces was a study in pears. Several were cut open, but most were in and/or spilling out of a bowl, in all of the glorious shades of pear. I remember being very young and staring at it. I loved the piece, as much as I loved the nude of the woman with the large butt and my mom's books where I first saw Bosch's work. 

I will give credit where it's due, even if the person didn't do it on purpose. I mean, I doubt my mom thought "let us shape the Child to love art by exposing her to art, both famous and personal' but that is exactly what she did. It opened up something inside of me, something I am very glad I have. I'm glad I had that exposure and I'm thankful that I love pears, for all they have to offer. 

Mother's Day 2021

My mind is not on the women connected to me by birth today. Normally it would be. If you read the blog, you know that I write about them every year on this day. Well, most years. My relationships with the women of my line are complicated. I honor them, I often didn't exactly LIKE them, I love them, I feel guilt about how things went down, I absolve myself of said guilt because I was young, I seek to understand them, and I mourn. Complicated.

Today my thoughts were in Colorado. Last year, my aunt had everyone over for Mother's Day, because of course, she saw no reason to social distance. They all came because they rarely saw reason to fight with her, even when they thought she was wrong. Some people are forces of nature and tend to win fights. That often isn't fair. 

Some weeks later, she was in the hospital for a number of things. None of them Covid. All of them potentially fatal. One proved to be. Or maybe even more than one. At that point, her body was going through so much. She lasted until October. She'd been ill for years, sometimes to the point of being immobile. Ill, but never truly dying. Suddenly she went from ill to dying and it felt so fast. Even if the illness part had lasted for decades, that transition into actually dying and then into actual death was so fast. 

They crashed on the rocks of grief for a while, reeling with pain and confusion and loss. They thought things were going back to normal but then in February, my oldest cousin's oldest child (the child that made him a father and made his siblings aunts and uncle and made his parents grandparents) killed herself. More sudden than my aunt's death, more jarring than losing her, this new pain ripped open all the wounds from before. I'm not sure how long it will take to heal now. I'm not even sure what that would look like. 

So my thoughts and my heart are there with my cousins, with my uncle, with my second cousins. I wish they didn't have to experience this day with grief. I wish every gift and smile from their own children didn't have to be bittersweet and given with the underlining whisper that this too could be taken away. I wish it could all just be a normal Mother's Day with the normal stuff and the normal rituals. I really wish that.

Going Too Far

I have a deeply dark sense of humor. It's one of the ways I've managed to cope with life. The years have not tempered it, though wisdom has tempered my awareness of the audience.  

Most of the time. Sometimes I still say things too dark even for those closest to me. It's something I've had to learn to balance. 

I, personally, think it IS important to balance. I don't feel censored when I refrain from unleashing my humor on the world. I certainly don't feel offended if someone is offended by what I say. I think the reason for this is because I KNOW my humor is dark and not for everyone. I also believe most people, over a certain age, also understand this about humor, but choose to ignore it. 

The thing is IF you choose to send out that biting joke, do so knowing it might not be well-received. You knew what you said. You knew the weight of it. And if you don't understand the weight of a joke, don't say it. 

After all, the point of dark humor is never to communicate 'oh look, I'm funny' and that be all there is to it. The point of dark humor is to communicate 'I know what I'm saying is rotted, but it's an acknowledgment of life being even more so and this is how I cope with that.' Some people don't cope that way. 

I mean, some people eat salted black licorice, and if that makes them happy, awesome. It is not to my taste and never will be. I don't think anyone will be mad if I tell them that and I don't think I should be angry at them for eating it or even inviting me to eat it as well. Just accept the no.

When We Find Words

This is Aspect Arda week in ficland, meaning that people are exploring JRRT's characters from the perspective of the spectrum of Asexuality. I've very much enjoyed this, especially as the fics often tackle topics that even these days we have trouble discussing. 

Even in 2021, a lot of people view asexuality either as not real (you just say that because no one WANTS to have sex with you) or as people who are loners who wish nothing to do with anyone. That is hardly the case. Some asexuals do wish to be left completely alone, but others want more than that. 

One of the stories I read tackled the idea of being deeply in love with someone, without really wanting the sex part. The character knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this person, but also knew he had no sexual desire for that person or anyone. He felt a lot of panic and unworthiness over it. But once they talked about it, once they found the words to really discuss what they needed and wanted from each other, things got better. 

At this point in real life, it isn't that easy for a lot of people. There are many who would probably be very happy in a committed platonic relationship, but our culture has sold marriage as 'yeah you have sex in a marriage it's what the marriage commitment IS' for so long that it seems impossible to even approach it. A lot of people try the sex stuff for a while, but then it tapers off and they feel guilty about it. Guilty. For something they honestly didn't even want in the first place. That's not a good way to live. 

I'm glad we're broadening the conversation about sexuality. I know it frustrates a lot of people. Some people accuse those who have sexuality outside of the traditional bounds to be attention-seekers. That can be frustrating and it's honestly best to just end the discussion with anyone who tries that. They're not going to listen. 

But for the people who ARE willing to listen and discuss things, real progress can be made here. I think if we have the words to really say what we feel and if we can express and understand what we really want, it could make for stronger relationships. 

I think my mother's mother was asexual/aromantic. She would always get very nervous about the idea of love where her marriage was concerned and she flat out HATED the idea of sex. She was miserable in her marriage and miserable as a mother. It didn't suit her or bring her any happiness. The saddest part is that all she'd been told is that it SHOULD bring her happiness and so she tried really hard to make that happen. I would give anything if she could have been born in a time when she didn't have to force herself to endure all of that. 

How many marriages would have been so much better if person A would have said, "Yes, I'm going into this because I want to have sex and children" and person B was socially allowed to say, "Oh, see I don't want that. I don't want sex or any touching like that. How about let's look for other people?" and they would have accepted this from each other and moved on? How many marriages would be stronger now if the two people in them came to a mutual understanding that their marriage bond was about more than sex and their neither of them had to feel guilt or shame because they no longer felt the need to do that? How many lives would be less miserable and confused if we all had the words we need when we discuss what we want with our bodies and our hearts? 

Cat Drama

Yesterday I gave the cat a bath with a shampoo designed to go on her fur while it was dry. It seemed like a less traumatic and potentially violent situation than trying to put her in water. It was certainly less traumatic than that, but she still hated it and made sad noises and threatened me. 

I still felt guilty.

Anyway, she forgave me. She's been on my arm most of the day. Even when I took a nap, she napped with me. So I guess it's okay. 

May the Fourth Be With You

I spent Star Wars Day reading stuff connected to Lord of the Rings. Hah! I love both, but my head and my heart is with JRRT right now. I could honestly talk about it all day and be happy. I could have in-depth, philosophical discussions about characters and be joyous. It is currently my smack. I'm fine with that. It's also currently my sanity.
I'm reading a really extensive fic right now that covers a lot of The Silmarillion from various perspectives. It isn't canon-compliant, but as I said the other day, I'm fine with that. Truly. 

It has a really long section on Fingolfin and I was happy about that. It's difficult to have truly favorite characters (no, I mean, I do. It's Mairon) but Fingolfin is certainly one of them. I may have to write more about that later.

Dripping

It's storming. I'm emotional. I basically wept through the last half of a stupid TV show tonight because sappiness. I have no regrets.

Hopefully the storm won't cause damage.

Destroy Everything You Touch

I've read a lot of fic about Fëanáro. I DO adore it when he's just a magnificent bastard who is fully willing to ruin everything and everyone to get his way. It's always a fun read when he is sure he is the smartest (and wisest and most talented and prettiest) person in the room and come hell or high water, he WILL get what he wants.

However, I also love it when he's written with more depth. I like it when he knows things are out of his control and he's being manipulated and driven insane by beings more powerful than him. A lot of writers tackle the idea that being around Valat and Maiar is difficult for the Eldar. The level of chthonic power rippling from the older beings is probably more than the elves can handle. At the same time, the fact that the Noldor are just as (if not more) passionate and creative and innovative often makes the Valar feel very envious. 

The fic I'm reading is like this. There is a scene where Fëanor comes to Fingolfin and makes him promise that if he loses his mind, his brother will kill him. He admits that all he truly has is his mind, and if he loses that, he's nothing but a danger to everyone around him. It's one of the most vulnerably written moments I've ever seen anyone do with Fëanor.

It really pulled the heartstrings. Fingolfin hated the idea but promised he would do it. Of course, circumstances didn't allow for this mercy and that is the truest tragedy here.

I think one of the things I was forgetting last night when I wrote about my concerns with casting on various shows is that one should always consider any version of a story outside of its canon as one that takes place in an alternative universe. This is how I view fics. Fëanor was one way in Tolkien's work. In some fics, he's a controlling bastard. In some, he is trying his best to free his people while he fights god-like beings who are trying to drive him insane. In either case and in all cases in between, he's still doomed to a path of creation that leads both to obsession and destruction. 

The case can be made that Fëanor and Melkor are a lot alike. Both defy the gods around them. Both want to have Arda on their own terms. Both have a complex relationship with their brothers and their fathers. Both are absent of mother figures. Both destroy everything they touch, one with balrogs and one with sons.

And interestingly enough, both have been written in fics with moments of such tragic lucidity that I can't help but love them. 

Concerns II

I had promised myself I would not be emotional about the new GRRM adaptation. I mean, I try not to be emotional about such matters anyway (SO GONNA BE A MESS ABOUT SAURON ON THE AMAZON SHOW) but in this case, I SERIOUSLY didn't want to be emotional because I'm trying not to care and just embrace the show without any baggage.

And yet.....

So I'm not super happy with the cast. I feel like they never get pretty enough men to play the Targs. Seriously. These men are supposed to be deeply beautiful. 

Then again, that's the reason they will never do a live version of JRRT's First Age either. Just not enough men who look like 1. beautiful elves who also 2. look like they could be family. 

Okay stop with the concerns. It's of no matter.