A Quick Note Concerning Arthuriana and BBC Merlin

I know, this is the sort of stuff that's supposed to go on my nerd blog, and probably it'll end up there too, but I think this has an element of interest to it that can put it here too. Also they're both my blogs and I'll deaL WITH THEM HOW I PLEASE.

So my mother was telling one of her friends how obsessed with Merlin I am. (Which is super great, thanks for giving me that reputation, Mom). And she says, and I quote: "It's a terrible show. It's based on the Arthurian legends and it just bastardizes them."

Leaving aside her extremely poor opinion of the show, which I find inexplicable (which is fair, considering everyone finds my love for it inexplicable), one cannot 'bastardize' the legend. It's actually not a thing that can happen.

Because here's the thing: there's actually no one legend. There is no set canon. Every author for the past few centuries have re-invented everything about this legend to suit their own needs, and BBC Merlin is just contributing to the trend.

For instance, in some versions of the legend, Morgana (who is sometimes called Morgaine and sometimes called Morgan, and sometimes she's Morgan le Fay) is a positive character. Sometimes she's a healer. Sometimes she's a heinous bitch/evil sorceress who causes the downfall of Camelot. Sometimes she's Arthur's sister. Sometimes she has an incestuous relationship with Arthur. Sometimes she isn't, and doesn't. Sometimes she isn't even a thing.

What about Guinevere? Sometimes she's caught between Lancelot and Arthur. Sometimes she's all about Lancelot. Sometimes she has an evil half-sister who convinces Arthur that she's the real Guinevere.

Sometimes Lancelot is raised by the Lady of the Lake (hence Lancelot du Lac). Sometimes he isn't.

Sometimes the Lady of the Lake is called Vivane, sometimes Niniane, sometimes Elaine, sometimes Nimueh. Sometimes she gives Arthur Excalibur from the lake. Sometimes he pulls it out of a rock.

Sometimes Mordred isn't even a thing. Sometimes he is. Sometimes he's Arthur's bastard son. Sometimes he's the bastard son of Arthur and Morgana. Sometimes he's completely unrelated to Arthur at all.

And don't even get me started on Merlin. Sometimes he isn't even Merlin. Sometimes he's the Merlin, a high priest of the Druids, and a new Merlin is elected when the last one dies. Sometimes he is Merlin, as in that is his name, and he is a sorcerer. Sometimes he's young, with a sister. Sometimes he's old. Sometimes he's Arthur's foster father. Sometimes he isn't. Sometimes he sexually harasses his student - usually Nimueh, who isn't always the Lady of the Lake - so much that she traps him in a tree. Sometimes he lives his life backwards, so that his specialty isn't so much prophecy so much as he already lived what happens in the future. Sometimes knowing the future just isn't a thing with him. Sometimes he and Guinevere are a thing. Sometimes not.

There are really just entirely too many version of this particular mythos, most of which contradict one another. Sometimes the same work even contradicts itself repeatedly. (I think of the story of the Grail, which Chretien de Troyes could not find it in him to finish, and it apparently ended mid-sentence. Thus began a saga of several different authors attempting to continue it, one taking up after the other after one gave up, and eventually ended up with four continuations and two different endings due to authors not communicating and both attempting to finish it at once. Supposedly, all read together, it's a chaotic mess of conflicting plotlines and themes and characterization, as well as the fact that most authors didn't even agree with Chretien on what a grail even is).

The point being, with this many versions of what is, essentially, the same story, you can't really claim one is any more the "real" story than any other. (Unless you're Thomas Mallory, in which case you write something so cohesive and good that you effectively ruin the party for everyone.) (Can you tell I've been doing some research?)

The show doesn't "bastardize" the legend, because it's just not possible to do such a thing to a story that already has so much history of being a complete mess. It adapts it. Which is the only thing that every author of a version of the story have in common - they're all just adaptations. The Arthurian legend is basically like having a bunch of characters who have a sort of basic function (Arthur is king, Lancelot's a knight, Guinevere's a queen, etc.), and then everyone else gets to write their own fanfiction about them and their relationships and how the story goes, and they're all as valid as any other.

Which I think is something that's kinda cool about the whole thing, and that's why that particular complaint bothered me.

Heads Up!

I made a new blog. It's specifically for my nerdy rantings and analyses and the like, so that whenever I'm analyzing yet another show or book or what-have-you, you don't have to be bothered/cluttered with it over here. See how considerate I am?

It's called The Unapologetic Nerd for reasons that I think should be fairly obvious, and it can be found here:  http://theunapologeticnerd.blogspot.ca/

So if anyone's ever interested in my more nerdy and obsessive ramblings, well, that's where to find them.

Just thought you ought to know.

Super Quick Show Recommendation Because I Can't Not Talk About It

I recently began watching a show called Humans, pretty much with no idea what it was or ever hearing about it before.

This show holds the record for the shortest amount of time it took to get me completely suckered in.

It handles a familiar concept (the ethical ambiguities regarding robots, namely), but it does so extremely intelligently, and from a lot of different angles, which is nice. There are several different storylines which eventually intersect, and each one offers a different perspective on the subject. I cannot stress enough how smart this show is.

Secondly, because there are so many different storylines, this show has a lot of characters. But it handles each character gracefully, and so beautifully communicates the complexity of each one of them. They're all intelligent people with their own lives and struggles and thoughts, but because they are all intelligent and you do have a respect for all of them, you understand their actions and sympathize even when they're wrong.

And, if all that weren't enough, the emotional tone of the show is just so strong. I recently watched episode seven (there are eight in the first, and so far only, season), and the ending may have broken my heart more swiftly than anything I can think of. Like, I felt physical pain in my soul. It was beautiful.

It's emotionally strong in other ways as well, of course. Also, the show is very good at withholding enough information to keep you wanting more, but not enough to make it so nothing makes any sense.

In conclusion, this show is honestly wonderful in so many ways and I recommend it with all my heart.

Did Homer Pick the Losing Side?

Disclaimer: I talk a lot about the story of the Iliad here, which I decided to risk because I know the story (and its various versions) quite well, as it was part of my Ancient Greek mythology education/becoming the encyclopedia, but my discussion may be inaccurate or hampered due to the fact that I haven't actually read the Iliad yet. Please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me. 

I was thinking about the story of the Trojan War. This is pretty common for me these days, since the Trojan War plays a pretty big role at the end of the novel I'm writing, and I'm always trying to find a way to twist the story to fit my needs while still retaining a certain amount of faithfulness.

Anyway, I was thinking about the Trojan War, and it occurred to me: Homer doesn't seem to like the Greeks in that story. If anything, he appears to prefer the Trojans.

That's a pretty interesting observation, if I do say so myself, because Homer was obviously a Greek writer (even more obviously as there's no actual evidence to suggest that Troy ever actually existed. If anything, it was probably part of Persia or something).

But when that occurred to me, I started thinking it through. And the fascinating thing is that the evidence seems to agree.

The first Greek character I thought of was Agamemnon, naturally, and everyone even in Ancient times would agree that Agamemnon was a huge douche (which is why it's so weird to see him portrayed as a positive character in versions of the story that want to take the winning side). For one thing, when the sea was too rough to be able to sail to Troy properly and several ships sunk in the attempt, Agamemnon decided that the best way to appease the gods would be to sacrifice his youngest daughter, Iphigenia, to them. He literally kills his youngest daughter in the hopes that Poseidon will calm the sea so he can cross it. Surprisingly, it works, but the thing is, even in the Ancient world people thought that human sacrifice was disgusting and barbaric. Audiences watching this play would not have thought this a reasonable course of action.

And to back up the fact that this is a disgusting act, he does get punished for it at the end, when his wife, Clytemnestra, murders him in the bath. But the thing is, Homer doesn't seem to like Clytemnestra (also Greek, naturally) that much either. She was unfaithful, for one thing - she had a lover by name of Aegisthus, who helped her kill Agamemnon, along with the prophetess Cassandra who I'll get to later. And in the Ancient world, it was definitely a no-no for a woman to be unfaithful - it's a no-no now, even, but it was much more serious back then. A man could divorce his wife if she so much as spoke to a man who wasn't her husband, and this story is quite specific in Aegisthus being her lover.

But don't worry! Clytemnestra and her lover get punished for their sins as well. Clytemnestra's remaining children, Orestes and Electra, kill both of them for their crimes.

Back to Agamemnon for a moment, he does something else that's quite negative in the story: he takes Cassandra (yes, the tragic prophetess, that one) as a concubine. I'm not as certain about the Ancient world's opinion of concubines, though with the knowledge I possess, it's hard to imagine them condemning it too hard, women being less than people in the eyes of this society at large. However, in one version of the story, he does this in a particularly cruel fashion that I'm sure even the Ancient Greeks wouldn't have approved of - he tells the other Greeks that Cassandra was raped, making her unclean, and making it so that he's the only one who could want her for a concubine. (This whole "unclean" thing also speaks to how profoundly misogynistic they are, but of course, we knew that). It's implied, also, that Clytemnestra's jealousy for Cassandra having her husband's favour is one of the reasons that she and Aegisthus kill them both, as well as avenging Iphigenia.

And while we're on the subject of Cassandra, there's another Greek character in this story who likewise isn't a strong case for the Greek's morality. Ajax the Lesser - yes, this is his actual title, because people didn't want him confused with a different Ajax, who was the strongest fighter in all of Greece. Anyways, in versions of the story where Agamemnon tells the truth about the rape of Cassandra, it's Ajax the Lesser who commits this act. This would have been bad enough, because, for all their ideological flaws, the Ancient Greeks were all about consent (even if their version of consent was different than ours - they didn't have an age of consent, for one thing, and I'm sure the idea of coercion didn't play into anything at all, but nonetheless, consent was a big deal), but what's worse, he finds her in the middle of praying to Athena, and commits the act right there in Athena's temple.

This, naturally, would have been seen as dirty, especially in the temple of what many people consider the Greek's most important god - the Acropolis, possibly the most famous and important Ancient Greek temple still standing, was dedicated to Athena - so, of course, people would not have liked Ajax the Lesser.

And the more I think about it, the more I realize that the only truly positive Greek character I can think of is Achilles. And even he isn't entirely untainted - the only reason he's next to invincible (besides his heel, of course) is because his mother dipped him in the Styx, which is an act full of pride that the gods really do not approve of. So of course, possibly as a punishment for this failing of his mother's, Achilles ends up dying in horrible pain.

You see, this isn't only a matter of treating the Greek characters badly because it's a tragedy and there's no story otherwise - you definitely get the feeling that you aren't supposed to like them. Agamemnon being murdered by his wife isn't tragic, it's just desserts, and the same goes for when his wife is murdered by her children. Ajax the Lesser is literally punished with death by Athena and Poseidon for what he did in Athena's temple, which, again, is less tragedy and more just desserts. I'm less clear on whether or not we're supposed to root for Achilles, but I do know that we're not meant to approve of Achilles' mother's act, which is yet another example of Homer treating the Greeks with disdain.

Meanwhile, in Troy, the characters are largely positive. The Greeks view the Paris and Helen situation as an abduction, when they themselves see it as an elopement, and the thing is, Paris was granted Helen by Aphrodite, meaning that at least one god is in favour of this union (hint: if the gods like it, so should you). And any idea that Helen doesn't actually love Paris is completely thrown out the window when, as he lays dying from his wounds, she literally climbs a mountain to ask a nymph to heal him. Homer wants us to know that Paris and Helen are actually in love.

Interestingly, Homer doesn't want us to think that Paris is actually any good at fighting - out of speculation, I'd say that this is to set him further apart from the Greeks of the story. See, he's good at the bow and arrow, but not any actual fighting in duels (Aphrodite actually spirits him away from a duel at one point because he's losing so bad), and the bow and arrow is kind of the coward's-way-out sort of weapon here. But even though Homer wants us to know that he sucks, he also gives Paris the very attractive trait of graciously recognizing that and admitting it rather than being indignant about it. Paris also gets the honour of delivering the fatal blow to the otherwise-invincible Achilles (with the help of Apollo), and these things together make me think that Paris is someone we're supposed to like, and someone whose death is actually supposed to be tragic.

Along with the Trojans, there's Helen, who genuinely loves Paris and tries to save him and is rewarded for this by literally ascending to Olympus.

There's also Cassandra, a figure who is only supposed to be viewed as tragic, as she predicts horrible futures and finds herself utterly unable to prevent them and eventually gets driven insane by this. That, along with how much she gets screwed over when those Greek bastards like Ajax and Agamemnon come into play, is definitely a tragic aspect, something we're supposed to feel pretty bad about for her, in direct opposition to the main Greek woman, Clytemnestra, who we're not supposed to feel bad for whatsoever when she eventually dies.

Aeneas, a Trojan warrior and something along the lines of Cassandra's third cousin, is one of the only Trojan warriors to escape when they lose, and, as Cassandra predicts, he sails away and eventually founds one of the greatest empires to ever exist - this myth puts him as the founder of Rome. (Apparently Homer didn't realize that the Romans had their own myth about their founder, which, in much more Roman fashion, included feral children and wolves). Now, I don't know about you, but putting a Trojan warrior as the founder of the greatest empire in history seems to me like quite the honour. And I just find it interesting that Homer kept bestowing all this honour on the Trojan characters, when A) Homer himself was Greek, and B) he knew how it ended. He was under no illusions about who won the Trojan war.

(Bearing in mind, of course, that the story also Greek-ifies the Trojans a bit - after all, it has them worshiping Greek gods when, in all likelihood, they would have had their own gods unbeknownst to us. But I find that to be more indicative of ignorance of culture, rather than an attack on Trojan identity, whatever that may be).

Now, of course, one reason for this would be that when writing a tragedy, it's much more tragic if the protagonists lose, and if that's the tack you're taking then the only logical protagonists are the Trojans. However, that doesn't really explain why the story goes to such great lengths to make the Greeks so completely abhorrent. The tragedy could have been complete even if the Trojans were honourable and the Greeks were, I don't know, morally neutral. After all, if not for the separate characters whose actions we know to be gross, an audience could forgive them. By their perspective, Helen was abducted, after all, and the story very easily could have had an audience rooting for the Trojans without entirely demonizing the Greeks.

Which, as I say, is why that choice is so baffling to me.

A theory I came up with that I rather like is that a reason for this could be that all the major Greek characters in the legend are Spartan. As a writer, Homer would not have been Spartan - the culture was very different from Sparta to the rest of the Greece. Sparta was all about the military, whereas the general non-Sparta part of Greece was much more oriented toward philosophy and art and all those things that we associate with Ancient Greece - including writing. And I find it possible that Homer could have felt a certain amount of contempt toward Sparta for their un-enlightened ways, and that it could have translated into his work.

And I think that's kind of backed up by the reasons we're not supposed to like them. Agamemnon and Ajax are typical testosterone driven creatures who, sure, can fight, but are savages. This is in direct contrast to characters like Paris of Troy, who we are supposed to like, and who can barely fight to save his life.

This is interesting because it would have been easy to be contemptuous toward a character who can't fight - especially considering said character effectively started the war - and revere the characters who are warriors. But Homer does the exact opposite, which makes me wonder about his opinion of warriors - or Spartans - in general, and if he didn't think them all a bit savage.

That's the best theory I can come up with, anyway. The terrible regard he has for his Greek characters seems bizarre through any other lens.

I love thinking about this stuff. It's just so fascinating. I especially find it interesting because it directly opposes the more modern habit of choosing to tell a triumphant story and sympathizing with the winning side, even if the winning side in question did so by terrible means (you only have to look at movies like American Sniper to see what I mean). Meanwhile, Homer decided that the heroes of his story would be honourable losers rather than savage winners - even if that meant siding with his nation's enemies.

That's not a perfect analogy - there are some obvious differences of circumstance - but there are also some interesting parallels.

I mean, I just think that when you look at it from this perspective, it opens up a whole new window into the mindset of the Ancient Greeks versus our current mindset. I mean, sure, I've seen a few modern stories that sympathize with the losing side (I'm mostly thinking of the recent slough of movies depicting America's various violent stints in the Middle East), but never ever above the winning side. Some have acknowledged the distasteful methods used, but they tend to also try to justify it. None have ever tried as hard to distance itself from such distasteful methods as Homer distanced himself from Greek general Agamemnon.

Again, it isn't a perfect analogy, but I do also think it's a parallel worth looking at.

And I just think that recognizing the oddness of the perspective from which the author chooses to tell the story opens up a fascinating vein concerning how people thought way back when, what their mindsets were like and, as the case may be, how flexible their sympathies were.

And being able to look at that and gauge that kind of meaning from it... well, I'd say that's kind of awesome.

Anyway. This is the sort of thing I think about on road trips. Hopefully I'm not the only one who finds it fascinating. (Oh god I'm the only one aren't I?)

Merlin is Flawed, and I Love It

Apologies in advance for the impenetrable wall of text. I apparently had a lot to say. 

So I've had like three draft posts about the show Merlin, and and none of them have really been working out. It's not because I don't have anything to say - quite the opposite. The problem simply seemed to be that I couldn't pull anything together cohesively, and I think it was because all the draft posts turned a blind eye to something that's rather unavoidable in talking about this show.

And that fact is that it's not the greatest show ever made. It has a lot of flaws, a lot of plot holes the size of the moon. The CGI is laughable, the plots are rehashed over and over, the show has a reset button that they repeatedly push for the first few seasons. And a lot of the third options that characters don't take for plot reasons makes 'em come off as pretty incompetent sometimes.

And yet in spite of all this, I really really love this show.

And I think the thing is in past posts I had a habit of glossing over these fundamental flaws as if they either didn't exist or didn't matter, but that's just not... truthful. Because the flaws do exist, they do matter, and a show can exist with flaws and still be, like, enjoyable.

What's Merlin, you ask? Well, lemme tell ya.

So, Merlin is a retelling of the old Arthurian legends, but set more as an origin story - so before the characters became the people who the world knows them as. They've also taken a bit of artistic license with their adaptation, which I'm totally a hundred percent okay with. So, in this version, Arthur isn't king yet, but rather a spoiled, arrogant, and elitist prince. Merlin is younger than him, and is a commoner who happens to get the job of Arthur's manservant. Uther (Arthur's father) is the king currently ruling Camelot, and - here's the catch - he has banned use of magic and/or sorcery on pain of death.

Didn't see that coming, did you? Neither did I, but what a great and clever way to raise the stakes for our protagonist right off the bat, right?

Merlin and Arthur begin really strongly disliking each other, due to the fact that Merlin began by calling Arthur out, and Arthur began by beating Merlin up. So when Merlin is told that it is his destiny to protect Arthur, for he is the Once and Future King and together they shall unite the lands and restore magic, blah blah blah, Merlin doesn't reallllly believe it. But destiny said so, and due to his Chronic Hero Syndrome, he doesn't really have a choice in whether or not he saves Arthur from the various perils the writers think up for him or not.

That's it. That's the basis of the show.

And, the thing is... they're not bad ideas. I love the idea of Merlin being, like, persecuted for his magic and having to hide it, rather than revered as this all-powerful magician. Call me sadistic, the more emotional turmoil characters can go through, the more on board I am with it.

And the other clever thing they did with it is that they've set up the characters as far away from what we know them as possible, so that we can properly watch them become the people we have in our heads. For instance, Merlin, known for being an extremely old, wise mentor of Arthur's, is an extremely young, extremely idealistic (and, by extension, fairly naive) young warlock who can barely control his own powers at the beginning of the show. (He's also really an adorable human being.) In a similar vein, Arthur, who is known for his egalitarian stance represented by the Round Table, is in this adaptation, a spoiled elitist brat.

Because of the way they've set it up, they've given the characters room to grow, and that's what makes it such a good approach. Arthur isn't born the most noble, brave, [insert heroic adjective here], he has to develop that, with no small help from Merlin. Meanwhile, Merlin, ever the idealist, has to face all this hardship, all the stuff he saves Arthur from all the time, and as a result, by season 5, he's much more cynical and, shall we say, pragmatic, than he was at the start.

It's just a cool way to do it.

Now, that's not to say that the execution of this plan doesn't have a few flaws. For instance, Merlin's main storyline of whether/when he tells Arthur he's a sorcerer has been dragged out long past its due date - it only comes out at the very end of the series, which is about three seasons longer than it should really have taken. Not to mention that, at times, the abuse that Arthur inflicts on Merlin and is played for laughs is sometimes... not all that funny. I mean, you can only watch him hurl something at Merlin's head so many times before it starts to get kind of old. It's only fun if Merlin gets to reciprocate, which isn't always the case (given that it's, officially, a master/servant relationship), and that's what turns it from a playful friendly hassling to, like, bullying.

So, yeah, there are some flaws in how the relationship is written, which is a shame, because this relationship is the main driving force of the entire show. But the thing is... it still works.

The reason it works is because Arthur isn't a mean-spirited human, and even when he does bully Merlin like he does, that sort of comes across. He's not mean-spirited, he's honestly just oblivious. He's never hung out with anyone who isn't a knight, where they haven't straight up fought as part of their friendship, and he's never really hung out with someone who wasn't a nobleman. It's this awkward mixture of him trying to maintain a friendship while still trying to maintain class superiority over him. Merlin's his friend, but not his equal.

Does... does that make sense?

Actually, I think that gets addressed in a season 2 episode. Arthur says something (paraphrased but) along the lines of: "I know we can't be friends because you're my servant, but if I wasn't a prince... I think we'd get on."

But Arthur, as he grows as a character, begins consistently defying all these class restrictions - by the fourth season, most of the knights weren't noblemen beforehand, but rather, were extremely loyal and competent commoners who Arthur found to be worthy. By the fifth season he's married to Guinevere, who was a serving girl for the first four seasons. And it's pretty clear that, while he and Merlin do have a banter going, they consider each other friends - he especially starts to trust Merlin in the fifth season, I've noticed, and it's really making it wonderful to watch. But the reason it's awesome is because it took them time to get there, so for that reason, I think we can cut them some slack on how the Arthur/Merlin relationship was written. (This doesn't, however, excuse the fact that the growth of their relationship we experienced through season 1 gets reset at the beginning of season 2. As in, they appear to have regressed. Uncool.)

One of the other major flaws with this show is that they have a habit of assigning antagonists before the they've really done anything antagonistic. It works a little bit, at first, with young Mordred (who, if you've read the Arthurian legends, eventually kills Arthur in battle. Also, in some legends, he's Arthur's bastard son, but they seem to be steering away from that, which is probably for the best) near the beginning of the series. It works because it gives Merlin some emotional turmoil - how can destiny possibly be right about condemning a young boy who Merlin sees himself in? That was a decent storyline.

But they continue with this habit for a long time. When Morgause shows up, she seems like a perfectly reasonable person, for a sorceress, and a kick-ass fighter to boot. She's also the only one who told Arthur the truth about the circumstances of his birth (long story). I thought she was going to be important.

And she is, but her remarkable intelligence and fighting skills get drastically reduced. And the reason they do that is because they pit her against Merlin all the time, and Merlin can't be allowed to lose. The other thing is, while she is a villain.... you kind of see her point? I mean, she's trying to kill Uther, who hunted everyone in the magical community, brought about the near extinction of multiple species, and executed many an innocent bystander for "consorting with sorcerers". He's a paranoid lunatic with a lot of power, and... killing him seems kind of like an understandable course of action at this point.

And I realize that perhaps we're supposed to be looking at it from the perspective of "killing is never the answer, killing in itself is evil, don't become the monster," etcetera, which would be valid, if not for the fact that Merlin has a huge body count himself. I mean, people get angry at Merlin for poisoning Morgana that one time (which was a time where he was actually, legitimately left with no other choice, and the narrative makes it very very clear - it was a breaking point for Morgana and Merlin both), but as the actor points out in the DVD commentaries, "I kill loads of people! I kill at least one person per episode." And the reason the audience/writers lets him get away with that is because the people he kills are evillllll, but, like.... define evil? If Uther isn't evil, then who is?

(Not to say that Uther isn't, at times, a sympathetic character - Anthony Head plays the complexity of his extremism very well - only that, well, we're meant to believe that Morgause is evil for attempting to kill Uther by putting everyone around him to sleep in an extremely non-violent fashion, after episodes that have had Uther execute children for being druids or sorcerers. Like...?)

The point being, we're supposed to think Morgause (and then by extension Morgana) are evil because that's the role that they've been assigned in the story. The problem is it's really hard to buy that if you're someone who wouldn't shed any tears over Uther's death, since that's pretty much their main goal. And no one would shed tears over Uther's death (except maybe Arthur, but eh, he'll get over it).

In fact, the villains in general. Like I said, Morgause started off great. She was smart, resourceful, graceful and kick-ass. Then they started directly pitting her against Merlin, and she gradually degenerated until she became the equivalent of, like, a Batman villain, sitting in their lair and wringing their hands while they fail yet again to kill Batman when really they should've just shot the guy instead of tying him to a conveyor belt that moves ever-so-slowly into a chopping machine. (Is this the end of the dynamic duo??? Tune in next week! Same bat-time! Same bat-channel!)

And don't even get me started on Morgana. Her arc was great up until season three. Before that, they had her struggling with the fact that she had magic and had to hide it in the center of the lion's den, so to speak. They had her meeting Morgause, and struggling with the decision to finally overthrow the tyrant who raised her, but would kill her if he ever discovered her abilities. Then they had Merlin poison her, which was a nice catalyst - a nice confirmation for her of the fact that she can't trust anyone in her own home.

And then in season three she comes back. You'd expect them to play with her a little more, right? Play with the idea that she's trying to be the hero, but by more questionable means, and gradually becomes the villain without hardly realizing it. What an interesting conflict that would have been.

 Nope. She comes back and she's just straight-up Batman-villain evil. I'm talking, evil smirks literally every six seconds. It's cartoony. It's often enough that it makes you wonder how no one (besides Merlin) notices that the king's ward smiles to herself like a nutjob every time something bad happens to anyone.

And she doesn't talk about her reasons for becoming evil, and only vaguely and briefly what her ultimate goals are - and even those end up getting distracted. "Assassinate Uther to free the magic community" somehow gets turned into "kill Arthur for some reason" somehow gets turned into "kill Gwen... I don't know, she just sucks". (Oddly enough Merlin never gets a plot directly against him, at least, not until season five - odd because he was the one that poisoned Morgana to begin with). (Also, to be fair, killing Arthur is sorrrrrrrrt of logical, because he's next in line for the throne, but if he's gone then she is. So alright, I'm down with that. But Gwen. Like. Why are you killing Gwen. You know what would be a good way to stop Gwen from becoming queen? KILLING ARTHUR YOU KNUCKLEHEAD. Not to mention Morgana apparently does not know the difference between a queen regnant and a queen consort, but whatever).

There were a couple good villains, though. Agravaine, for instance, was watchable. He was working for Morgana, but he was infinitely more crafty and competent than her (understandable, given that by this point Morgana is steadily descending into madness driven by obsessive hatred) and, significantly, didn't smirk every five seconds. The thing about him though was that, while Morgana's plans were hazy but her motives were clear enough, Agravaine was exactly the opposite. His plans were executed well, but I'm kind of hard pressed to tell you why he was working against Camelot to begin with.

But you see, in spite of these various flaws, I still really enjoyed this show.

I enjoyed it because the thing about Merlin is that, while the over-arcing plots are generally pretty flawed (and only impact things on an erratic basis), the episodes themselves are usually really enjoyable. This is not a show where you should be looking at the big picture all the time, and I'm okay with that. There are so many shows these days that you can only enjoy by looking at the big picture, and that's just annoying, because it usually results in the plotlines per episode being disjointed and not really lining up thematically. One thing you have to give to Merlin - whether or not they do a good big picture, the plots per episode do line up well, and the scenes within those plots are usually extremely well done.

Seriously. While granted, a lot of the character development has been inconsistent (and off-screen to boot), the individual scenes are beautifully acted. (Except, as I've mentioned, Morgana's tendency for Vaudeville villainy, which is a bit jarring in comparison to the rest of the cast's more subtle acting, but hey, nobody's perfect). So many thinly written moments have been made quite profound because of smart acting choices made by very capable actors.

I have to give special mention to the dude who plays Merlin here, because while all of them are pretty great actors who bring a lot to the characters, Colin Morgan's Merlin is just... he stands out. I love that his Merlin actually cries instead of that stupid One Manly Tear trope. I love how incredibly expressive he can be in scenes when he doesn't even have lines. I love the subtle stuff he does in some of his line deliveries - slight voice crack here, a defensive whine there. It's really convincing acting. And on top of all that, he changes his accent for the show to boot (he has a really obscure Northern Irish accent. His Merlin is definitely not Irish). Not to mention that he has kind of this... magnetic, captivating quality, that's hard to define but easy to notice. He's the kind of actor where I could watch a video of him watching paint dry and I probably wouldn't change the channel.

And it has nothing to do with looks (though his cheekbones... damn, son). He just kind of has this quiet charisma thing going on. But, like I say, he's an amazing actor - it's pretty much what sold me on the show to begin with - and so that charisma is kind of just an extension of his talent as far as I'm concerned. I really admire him as an actor.

So the acting's really good, but also, the cinematography. Is really good. And of course, I've identified myself as one of those people who will continue watching something regardless of story if it happens to be shot particularly artfully, and Merlin definitely fits in that category. And there was probably good stuff happening from the beginning, but it becomes especially noticeable in the later seasons. Sometimes I just sit there with my jaw hanging because the shots are so pretty.

I love how the shape of the staircase forms this shot, and how it spirals down to Merlin. I love how small Merlin is. Beautiful.

I love this. I love that Excalibur is this huge thing that Arthur is, like, looking up to, and that they've represented it visually as well.

I'm not usually a fan of lens flare but I just think it works here. The sun, pulling Excalibur from the stone... it's all just so pretty. 

LOOK AT THAT SCENERY. LOOK AT THE LITTLE VILLAGE IN THE BACKGROUND. LOOK HOW FAR GWEN AND ELYAN ARE FROM EVERYTHING. LOOK HOW BIG THEIR FATHER'S GRAVESTONE PILE IS IN COMPARISON TO THEM. EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SHOT IS PERFECT.

I love this so much. The shadows from the barred windows, making it look like the prison that it effectively is. The mandrake roots hanging in the shot but not quite reaching Gwen. Amazing.

To be honest I'm just a sucker for this lighting. Damn. But I'm also appreciating the shape of the shot - the road they're walking actually looks treacherous, which is unusual to be seen in a silhouette shot, and it looks almost as if the camera is tilted a little. Also the whole silhouettes thing is just... my eyes like that.

I LOVE THIS SHOT SO MUCH. I LOVE HOW MERLIN IS LITERALLY SURROUNDED BY MAGIC. I LOVE THAT THEY'VE CAMOUFLAGED HIM INTO HIS SURROUNDINGS BECAUSE HE IS MAGIC, BUT HE'S ALSO SHARP AND CLEAR AND NOT FADING INTO THE BACKGROUND. (And you can't tell with this particular screencap, but they've set it up so that they have just enough space for you to follow exactly where his eyes are following, and it's a blue butterfly that flies up in the opposite direction. It's a beautiful shot). 

I noticed near the end of the series they were really experimenting with centering people in shots - you see it a whole lot with shots of Mordred, which I haven't included here - and that's unusual, because closeups generally are framed so that the person is either on the left or on the right, like the previous one. It's generally more appealing to the eye, which is why centering someone is such an interesting choice. I can only imagine that it's meant to convey that the character is in a position of unusual power (or to represent that we're viewing them from a separate character's P.O.V, but that doesn't apply in this case), but because people's eyes aren't drawn to the center, they'd have to work the shot so that the person in the center commands the frame. They seem to have done that here by the stark contrast between Merlin's cloudy grey background and himself - interestingly, Arthur almost manages to fade into the grey with his armour on, but he is visible enough to provide something to give Merlin pause. It's a cool framing, and an interesting one.

I love this shot so much. It's just beautiful. The green in with the grey and island and the lake and the man's profile and I just really love this shot a lot it's so pretty. 

I love how they've done this iconic image (because let me tell you it's an image that wasn't invented with wide screen in mind). The dark waters, the dark background, and the golden sword and the pale hand... the contrast just works perfectly. Even though there's a lot of space there, there's no doubt where you should be looking. It's awesome.

(I, uh... I took a film class one time. I don't suppose you can tell.)

There's more, of course - I was trying to find a shot from Season 2 where Merlin's shot from through a chain link, it's quite poignant - but these are just a few of the shots that stand out in my mind. Hopefully it gets the point across that this show's cinematography is really beautiful, and, especially when it's in the context of the show, can be kind of breathtaking.

There are also some interesting themes discussed on the show, of course. I've touched on the class distinctions thing, which is always present, and (at least after Season 1) the show makes a very big point of representing that aspect of things in multiple ways - and makes an even bigger point of it when the class distinctions are being defied. For instance, things are often shot with Arthur being literally higher than Merlin - he's standing and Merlin's sitting, for instance, or when Arthur's sitting, Merlin is always doing labour and chores and servant-like things for him. But after the Round Table was first introduced, at the very end of the show, Merlin and Arthur are both sitting, on the same level, and filmed from the same height, implying that, at least for this moment, they are equal.

And, of course, possibly the most importantly: it's genuinely entertaining. Leaving aside the unfunny Arthur's-a-bad-boss gag that they like, the show can actually be very funny. When the show gets dramatic, I feel it and care about it. The protagonists, even at their worst, are all interesting, if not downright lovable. And it can actually be surprisingly thoughtful with the plots it explores.

In conclusion: Is it the best show ever made? Of course not. Is it still pretty good? Yeah, it is, and I love it a lot. I concede its obvious problems, but the fact is, it has a lot of redeeming qualities too. It's one of those shows that turn out better than the version that was put on paper.

Here's the thing. The good things it offers? They don't erase the problems. But getting caught up in the problems kind of narrows the things you get to enjoy, doesn't it?

Long story short: I love BBC Merlin in spite of myself.

The Real Reason Shakespeare is Difficult

Spoiler alert: it isn't the language.

Now, that may be just my personal bias - English is kinda my thing. But as far as I can tell, the language is not the real challenge about Shakespeare.

Don't get me wrong, the language can, at times, be challenging. Sure, all the "forsooth"s and "thou"s and "wherefore"s and so on could take some getting used to. And I've seen a lot of people have trouble with "e'er" translating to "ever". But the thing is, the language is something you just get used to after a while. Some quicker than others, like anything else, but the more practice you have with it, the more you understand. I've practiced with Shakespeare quite a bit (I used to read it to myself in my spare time - aloud, as that's how Shakespeare is meant to be read), so I think it's fair to say that when it comes to comprehension, I'm pretty alright.

But that does not, by any standard, mean that I could ever be a Shakespearean actor. And that's because the real challenge begins after the words make sense.

Because the thing about Shakespeare is that, while the words have a pretty clear meaning at face value, the whole intent of a scene can change the moment it's read aloud. By tone of voice, by what the actor does (and what he doesn't do - but I'll get to that later). And it's come to my attention that while Shakespeare can be difficult by virtue of the language, it's actually much freer than most things made today, because in nothing else I've seen can characters be so drastically reshaped according to different interpretations by actors and directors.

But freedom like that is scary, because it's a lot of pressure. You have to choose a direction where so many other people have probably read it in so many other ways.

And that's where the challenge is.

I can think of several examples where interpretation really counted and made a difference, but I'll only give a few here so you get the idea. One was brought up by an actor who I admire, James Marsters, at a panel. He was talking about Macbeth, and how people tend to (by his reading) misinterpret the two main characters - Macbeth, and Lady Macbeth. I'm not going to get into what he said about Lady Macbeth because it's irrelevant here, and because I think the ambiguities of Lady Macbeth is worth an analysis all on its own. But about Macbeth, he was very certain of some things, and that's what matters here, in terms of interpretation.

If you're familiar with the story of Macbeth, you probably know the scene where, after killing his friend Banquo, the Macbeths host a dinner party. At this party, the ghost of Banquo appears to Macbeth. Macbeth panics and Lady Macbeth quickly ushers everyone out of there before they can begin questioning his sanity.

The difference in interpretation lies in what the panicking entails. I've seen a few versions where Macbeth cowers and hides, and a few where he's petrified. What Marsters points out at his panel, is that Macbeth is a warrior. And because he's a warrior, if it comes to fight, flight or freeze, Macbeth would always pick fight.

So imagine this passage with those three very different interpretations in mind.

MACBETH
Avaunt! and quite my sight! let the earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with!

Each version lends a very different tone to the scene, doesn't it? Imagine Macbeth cowering away from the ghost, party guests wondering what on earth he's so afraid of; imagine Macbeth unable to move for fear, hissing these words, the guests baffled; imagine Macbeth roaring these words, challenging the ghost, and now the guests are the ones scared. It changes things, doesn't it?

One of the best examples of such difference in interpretation is something I found in The Taming of the Shrew.

Now, I love The Taming of the Shrew, it's one of my favourites, but there are parts of it that just don't translate all that well through the centuries. What comes to mind is Kate's monologue at the end regarding the importance of a woman's obedience to her husband, and also Petruchio's behaviour directly following their marriage can be a bit appalling if it's played completely straight. One of the most potentially appalling monologues from Petruchio goes like this:

PETRUCHIO
They shall go forward, Kate, at thy command.
Obey the bride, you that attend on her;
Go to the feast, revel and domineer, 
Carouse full measure to her maidenhead,
Be mad and merry, or go hang yourselves;
But for my bonny Kate, she must go with me.
Nay, look not big, nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret;
I will be master of what is mine own:
She is my goods, my chattels; she is my house, 
My household stuff, my field, my barn, 
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing;
And here she stands, touch her whoever dare;
I'll bring mine action on the proudest he
That stops my way in Padua. Grumio, 
Draw forth thy weapon, we are beset with thieves;
Rescue thy mistress, if thou be a man.
Fear not, sweet wench, they shall not touch thee, Kate;
I'll buckler thee against a million.

Now, the line "I will be master of what is mine own", as well as the comparing of Kate to various possessions can be read pretty darkly and make a lot of people uncomfortable if it's played like that - and I have seen Petruchio played in that way, with that darkness. 

But I've also seen it played very differently. Flirty. Playful. And it changes everything about that scene. 

See, what's simultaneously the most obvious and most challenging thing about Shakespearean acting is it's about what you do, less about what you say. You can say the same thing with totally different intents behind the words. But how you present it, what you do as you say it, that's what the challenge is. That's what the acting is. The tone you say it in, the actions you put with it - that's where things change, where things get interesting, and where the audience will really understand you. 

Now, most recently, I watched a version of The Tempest. And I was especially struck by their portrayals of Ariel and Prospero. (In all fairness, this could have been because Ariel happened to be played by an actor who I admire very much, and naturally catches my attention, but my point remains). Mostly, I was struck by the contrast and parallels they manage to draw between Prospero and Ariel. These things aren't immediately obvious when reading the text, but this version of the play puts quite a bit of emphasis on it, and it was absolutely fascinating. 

And it was fascinating because, while it had been obvious to me previously that Shakespearean acting has a lot to do with the things you do, what this version made me realize was that it could sometimes be just as much about what you don't do. 

In this version, Prospero was... well, he was all over the place. He'd strut all around the stage, shouting some things, muttering others, gesturing to the sky. And it wasn't bad, because in Shakespeare things mostly are that big (especially since this was a stage version), and this Prospero was still played with amazing depth. 

And while Prospero did this, Ariel would stand still, following Prospero with his eyes. When he had a monologue, he would almost never use his hands to express what he was saying, only his face and tone. His voice was always level. And at first I mistook this for a too-subtle take on stage acting, until I realized that it could only be meant to contrast the explosive energy of Prospero. 

It also served as a welcome reminder that Ariel is not like the other fairies of Shakespeare. Ariel is nothing like Puck, of A Midsummer's Night's Dream. Puck is a child, a trickster. Ariel is a servant. "Mischievous" is probably what most people would call Puck (though I can't think of any specific quote) - the word Ariel gets time and time again is "delicate". More than once Prospero calls him "my delicate Ariel". And what's more delicate and graceful than stillness and calm in the midst of the tempestuous chaos of Prospero's schemes? (Please excuse the pun it was unintentional but perfect). 

My favourite example of this contrast comes from how they play this sample. The script looks like this:

ARIEL

[...]
Him that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord Gonzalo;'
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.

PROSPERO
Dost thou think so, spirit?

ARIEL
Mine would, sir, were I human.

PROSPERO
And mine shall. 

But if one were to transcribe it with tone from how they played it, it would read more like this:

Ariel: Him that you term'd, sir. 'The good old lord Gonzalo.' His tears run down his beard like winter's drops, from eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em that if you now beheld them, your affections would become... tender. 

Prospero: DOST THOU THINK SO, SPIRIT?

Ariel: Mine would, sir. Were I human. 

Prospero: (after a long pause). And.... mine.... shall. 

You can see how they contrast each other very well. And you can also see that, alongside such huge performances as Prospero's, the biggest choice Ariel could make for his own characterization would be to not be big at all. 

I just thought that was interesting. I'd never thought of negative space as an acting concept, but that's essentially what Ariel was creating in this portrayal. Which is, in its own counter-intuitive way, a pretty radical choice.

So, let's face it. Shakespeare is challenging all the way around. Meanings get buried underneath piles of outdated words, and sometimes you get stage directions like "Exit, pursued by a bear" when there wasn't even a bear in the scene to begin with (see: A Winter's Tale). But the most challenging thing about Shakespeare has to be that the way it's written leaves everything entirely open to interpretation. The most challenging thing about Shakespeare is that actors and directors have to make their own choices about who the characters really are, and why they're really doing what they do, and these choices can vary drastically depending on what you watch.

Having that much freedom can be kind of daunting, and it's one of the most difficult things about Shakespeare, for sure. But I firmly believe that it's also part of what makes it so enjoyable. Because it pretty much guarantees that no matter how many times you see the same play, chances are, you won't really be seeing the same play at all. 

And, as I'm sure Shakespeare would say: That's pretty cool. 

That Underdog Band Who is Low-Key Really Fantastic

Muse is that.

So before this week, I'd heard like maybe four songs by Muse through the span of my life. Uprising was on the radio quite a bit (and my dad really liked it), Starlight was also on the radio a bit (one of my ultimate favourites - it has a cool piano part and the lyrics are poetry), Madness (took me a bit to like it, but the climax is pretty good) and recently, Dead Inside (which is really awesome and dark and creepy and the climax of this song is honestly spine-tingling).

So I'd heard a very small portion of Muse's music. I'd liked all that I'd heard, but I hadn't really sought out anything more.

Then, as I was on one of my Internet strolls, I started, out of curiosity, to look up Project MK Ultra. This is related to the topic, I promise.

So Project MKUltra is a typically messed-up piece of history related to the Cold War, in which throughout the sixties and seventies, the CIA did a lot of top-secret experiments on unwitting participants to see if they could actually control people's minds. This is one of the creepiest things ever, and if you're not getting that yet, allow me to make this clear to you: THIS IS ONE OF THE CREEPIEST THINGS EVER. One infamous experiment involved the death of a bright scientist (they drugged him without his knowledge, and he jumped or possibly fell out a window. This is historical fact). There were a lot of other experiments like that, and they often ended similarly, which didn't stop the CIA from carrying on the Project for a pretty long time. Which is pretty messed up.

Anyways, as I was taking in all this strange-and-creepy-yet-true stuff, I stumbled across a comment that said, more or less, "Well, at least Muse made a cool song out of it."

Excuse me? Someone made a song out of this?

So, because I generally like Muse, and because I desperately needed to hear what kind of song could come out of something that's so wrong on a fundamental level that it would be hard to discuss normally, I looked up the song.

The song is freaking AWESOME.

The guitar part is addictive to listen to, and the lyrics are oddly poetic ("A universe is trapped inside a tear" always gets me. Always), and it has these violins playing for suspense as "They are breaking through...... now we're falling/we are losing control" happens and it's just such a cool song.

So later this week, I was having a problem. The problem was that I was sick and tired of all my playlists, didn't feel like making a new one, and needed something to play while I was doing my homework without me having to choose a song every three minutes, but also wasn't the same thing on repeat. My solution was to try something different and find an album on YouTube by a band I maybe liked (but not an album I knew by heart, like Bastille. I was looking for something different).

So I looked up a Muse album on Youtube, since I now liked five of their songs, and hey, that's pretty serious stuff. The first album that came up was an album of theirs called Resistance, which I clicked on and began to do my homework.

First of all: every song on that album is profoundly different in sound. This is a wonderful thing. It makes it very exciting to listen to.

Second of all: every song on that album is extremely similar in theme. This album had songs with titles such as Uprising, Resistance, Unnatural Selection (not to mention MK Ultra), and it became increasingly clear that most (if not all) of the songs had something to do with fighting against an oppressive society. Which is cool.

Thirdly: as I listened to the lyrics, I heard the words "You'll wake the Thought Police" in the song Resistance. Then as I listened to a song called "The United States of Eurasia", it suddenly became glaringly obvious that the whole album, in fact, was based on the novel 1984 by George Orwell.

And that's freaking awesome.

As you may know, I have a bit of weakness for artists who write songs about, well, anything besides romance. Romance, while probably meaningful to those who write about it, is horridly overdone for someone like me, who has no romantic life whatsoever and isn't particularly interested in seeking one out. I was happy enough to hear Muse writing about things non-romantic, like fighting an oppressive regime. I was both overjoyed and intrigued when I finally (and it took me way too long) understood that the oppressive regime they were talking about was, in fact, Big Brother and the Party. As you may have realized, I have an even bigger weakness for artists who write songs that are stimulating not only musically, but intellectually as well (remember when I realized that Bastille wrote songs about Icarus? And Pompeii? And Laura Palmer? And WRITING?).

And it's not only that they write songs about cool things; the songs are actually good. United States of Eurasia has a really cool interlude that sounds almost oriental before it returns back to the rest of the song, which sounds more than a little like Queen. So that's an odd mixture, and odder still, it works.

Unnatural Selection has an awesome, intense guitar part, as well as some of my favourite lyrics ever, including, "I'm hungry for some unrest/I wanna push it beyond a peaceful protest/I wanna speak in a language they will understand" and, "Counterbalance this commotion/We're not droplets in the ocean". God, it's so awesome.

Resistance has one of the most powerful choruses, and it's cool because the singer actually interrupts the background singers to go into the chorus, like he really is resisting something, and he goes into the chorus with so much more power than in any other part of the song - you just imagine him, like, breaking down a door at that part, and it's with such powerful lyrics as well: "Love is our resistance!"

And of course Uprising is just really good, but I'm not mentioning that as much because I've known that song by heart for a solid three years if not longer.

I love discovering awesome new music. It's like finding a bunch of diamonds in a pile full of worthless rocks.

All in all it's super cool and I'm so happy to uncover a band that's actually worth buying the whole album.

Also they've inspired me to actually read 1984. Yes, listening to a rock band made me want to read. And a rather intellectual novel, at that.

Take that, rock-music-is-for-mindless-punks people.