I have a lot of complicated feelings when it comes to what Neflix has done with the Witcher, but my probably least favourite is the line of argumentation that originated during shitstorms related to the first and second season that I was unlucky to witness.
It boils down to "Netflix's reinterpretation and vision is valid, because the Witcher books are not written to be slavic. The overwhelming Slavic aestetic is CDPR's interpretation, and the setting in the original books is universally European, as there are references to Arthurian mythos and celtic languages"
And I'm not sure where this argument originated and whether it's parroting Sapkowski's own words or a common stance of people who haven't considered the underlying themes of the books series.
Because while it's true that there are a lot of western european influences in the Witcher, it's still Central/Eastern European to the bone, and at its core, the lack of understanding of this topic is what makes the Netflix series inauthentic in my eyes.
The slavicness of the Witcher goes deeper than the aestetics, mannerisms, vodka and sour cucumbers. Deeper than Zoltan wrapping his sword with leopard pelt, like he was a hussar. Deeper than the Redanian queen Hedvig and her white eagle on the red field.
What Witcher is actually about? It's a story about destiny, sure. It's a sword-and-sorcery style, antiheroic deconstruction of a fairy tale, too, and it's a weird mix of many culture's influences.
But it's also a story about mundane evil and mundane good. If You think about most dark, gritty problems the world of Witcher faces, it's xenophobia and discrimination, insularism and superstition. Deep-seated fear of the unknown, the powerlessness of common people in the face of danger, war, poverty and hunger. It's what makes people spit over their left shoulder when they see a witcher, it's what makes them distrust their neighbor, clinging to anything they deem safe and known. It's their misfortune and pent-up anger that make them seek scapegoats and be mindlessly, mundanely cruel to the ones weaker than themselves.
There are of course evil wizards, complicated conspiracies and crowned heads, yes. But much of the destruction and depravity is rooted in everyday mundane cycle of violence and misery. The worst monsters in the series are not those killed with a silver sword, but with steel.
it's hard to explain but it's the same sort of motiveless, mundane evil that still persist in our poorer regions, born out of generations-long poverty and misery. The behaviour of peasants in Witcher, and the distrust towards authority including kings and monarchs didn't come from nowhere.
On the other hand, among those same, desperately poor people, there is always someone who will share their meal with a traveller, who will risk their safety pulling a wounded stranger off the road into safety. Inconditional kindness among inconditional hate. Most of Geralt's friends try to be decent people in the horrible world. This sort of contrasting mentalities in the recently war-ridden world is intimately familiar to Eastern and Cetral Europe.
But it doesn't end here. Nilfgaard is also a uniquely Central/Eastern European threat. It's a combination of the Third Reich in its aestetics and its sense of superiority and the Stalinist USSR with its personality cult, vast territory and huge army, and as such it's instantly recognisable by anybody whose country was unlucky enough to be caught in-between those two forces. Nilfgaard implements total war and looks upon the northerners with contempt, conscripts the conquered people forcibly, denying them the right of their own identity. It may seem familiar and relevant to many opressed people, but it's in its essence the processing of the trauma of the WW2 and subsequent occupation.
My favourite case are the nonhumans, because their treatment is in a sense a reminder of our worst traits and the worst sins in our history - the regional antisemitism and/or xenophobia, violence, local pogroms. But at the very same time, the dilemma of Scoia'Tael, their impossible choice between maintaining their identity, a small semblance of freedom and their survival, them hiding in the forests, even the fact that they are generally deemed bandits, it all touches the very traumatic parts of specifically Polish history, such as January Uprising, Warsaw Uprising, Ghetto Uprising, the underground resistance in WW2 and the subsequent complicated problem of the Cursed Soldiers all at once. They are the 'other' to the general population, but their underlying struggle is also intimately known to us.
The slavic monsters are an aestetic choice, yes, but I think they are also a reflection of our local, private sins. These are our own, insular boogeymen, fears made flesh. They reproduce due to horrors of the war or they are an unprovoked misfortune that descends from nowhere and whose appearance amplifies the local injustices.
I'm not talking about many, many tiny references that exist in the books, these are just the most blatant examples that come to mind. Anyway, the thing is, whether Sapkowski has intended it or not, Witcher is slavic and it's Polish because it contains social commentary. Many aspects of its worldbuilding reflect our traumas and our national sins. It's not exclusively Polish in its influences and philosophical motifs of course, but it's obvious it doesn't exist in a vacuum.
And it seems to me that the inherently Eastern European aspects of Witcher are what was immediately rewritten in the series. It seems to me that the subtler underlying conflicts were reshaped to be centered around servitude, class and gender disparity, and Nilfgaard is more of a fanatic terrorist state than an imposing, totalitarian empire. A lot of complexity seems to be abandoned in lieu of usual high-fantasy wordbuilding. It's especially weird to me because it was completely unnecessary. The Witcher books didn't need to be adjusted to speak about relevant problems - they already did it!
The problem of acceptance and discrimination is a very prevalent theme throughout the story! They are many strong female characters too, and they are well written. Honestly I don't know if I should find it insulting towards their viewers that they thought it won't be understood as it was and has to be somehow reshaped to fit the american perpective, because the current problems are very much discussed in there and Sapkowski is not subtle in showing that genocide and discrimination is evil. Heck, anyone who has read the ending knows how tragic it makes the whole story.
It also seems quite disrespectful, because they've basically taken a well-established piece of our domestic literature and popular culture and decided that the social commentary in it is not relevant. It is as if all it referenced was just not important enough and they decided to use it as an opportunity to talk about the problems they consider important.
And don't get me wrong, I'm not forcing anyone to write about Central European problems and traumas, I'm just confused that they've taken the piece of art already containing such a perspective on the popular and relevant problem and they just... disregarded it, because it wasn't their exact perspective on said problem.
And I think this homogenisation, maybe even from a certain point of view you could say it's worldview sanitisation is a problem, because it's really ironic, isn't it? To talk about inclusivity in a story which among other problems is about being different, and in the same time to get rid of motifs, themes and references because they are foreign? Because if something presents a different perspective it suddenly is less desirable?
There was a lot of talking about the showrunners travelling to Poland to understand the Witcher's slavic spirit and how to convey it. I don't think they really meant it beyond the most superficial, paper-thin facade.
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(CW for Suicidal Ideation)
Hinata’s breath was heavy as he landed the final move of their act. The tinny music playing from their speakers went quiet and the audience clapped politely. It was always the same song and dance as the crowd moved on with their day. A few of them tossed some yen their way but otherwise it was time for them to regroup for their next performance. Yuta knelt down by the hat with some coins and bills sticking out of it, counting their earnings thus far.
“Hey aniki! We might be able to eat well tonight! There’s like 3,000 yen in here!” Yuta exclaimed. The idea of a filling dinner made Hinata’s mouth water. Oh what he wouldn’t do for even warm noodles not from a cup.
Hinata turned to grab the iPod from its place on the speaker, choosing the next song to play. He put the phone back and turned the volume up a little more to play over the evening rush. The music started and he and Yuta moved in unison around their little stage, taking in the crowd. There were some regulars that Hinata recognized, the businesswoman who was perpetually tired but always stopped for their performances and a few kids who looked up at them in awe as their parents were trying to usher them away. There were always new faces too, of course people traveled across the country all the time or took new trains or moved cities, but there was something different about the boy with the bright red hair at the back of the crowd. His sky blue eyes pierced straight through to Hinata’s heart and made him stumble when their gaze connected with his own.
“Hey, aniki focus! We’re almost done, don't fail on me now!” Yuta whispered, carefully shielding Hinata from the crowd as he regained his footing. Yuta was always so quick thinking. Hinata got back to his position and finished up the routine, eyes looking for that boy he had spotted earlier. He half hoped the boy would come talk to them afterwards while they were packing up for the evening, but when he finally saw that shock of red hair, it was moving away with the rest of the crowd.
Hinata sighed, disappointed. Maybe that boy would come back someday. There was something about him that drew Hinata in.
Someone bumped his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts. “Hey, aniki, are you alright? You seem out of it today.” Yuta’s hand rested on his shoulder and Hinata couldn’t help but smile. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around, the older brother checking in on the younger one?
“Hey hey everything’s fine Yuta-kun, don’t worry about me. I was just thinking about that delicious dinner you’re treating us too~” He playfully pushed back on Yuta, the red haired blue eyed boy all but forgotten now.
“Hey! It’s technically our money so I’m not treating you to anything!” Yuta scowled but the smile in his voice was obvious to Hinata.
“Hehe, then dinner’s on me! Say ‘thank you aniki!’”
---
It was a week before Hinata saw the red headed boy in their audience again. He had all but slipped his mind, but those striking blue eyes were impossible to forget. Yuta was introducing their next performance which allowed Hinata to take a better look at the older boy who had made his way to the middle of the audience. He was tall and what Hinata could see of his outfit seemed ill-fitting at best, along with a headband holding his hair away from his eyes.
Hinata scrambled to his position as the music queued up and let his instincts take over. Every so often he found himself glancing at the red haired boy, trying to see what he thought of their performance, but his face revealed nothing.
Why was he so focused on this one boy? It’s not like they didn’t have strangers who watched them sometimes, and none of them had caught Hinata’s attention quite like this boy. He really couldn’t be much older than Hinata, maybe 17 at the oldest. Was he an older brother too? The boy’s eyes made contact with Hinata’s and it took everything in him to not look away.
Once again however, Yuta snapped him out of whatever trance he had been in and everything was forgotten.
“Are you really okay aniki? You’ve been out of it a lot recently…” Oh how it pained Hinata to see the concern on Yuta’s face. Nothing was even really wrong per se, but Hinata was distracted nonetheless.
“I’m fine, Yuta-kun. Geez, can’t your older brother have some peace?” His mouth ran faster than his brain and he immediately regretted it. Yuta’s face flipped through several emotions; hurt, confusion, exhaustion. It wasn’t like him to hide things from his brother, so why was he doing it now? “Whatever, let’s get some dinner. My treat~”
“It’s our money!”
---
The boy continued to make appearances at the twins’ performances on the street, becoming something of a regular but disappearing before Hinata could flag him down. Hinata wasn’t even sure what compelled him to want to talk to the older boy, but he wanted to say something. He had even noticed that the boy seemed happier and his clothes fit a little better, not like they were just the first thing he grabbed out of a donation pile.
Finally, after almost a month of trying to say something to the boy, Hinata saw him walk up to their hat on the ground and drop a few coins into it.
“Thank you!” He said, walking up to the boy. “Hope you enjoyed the performance!”
The boy froze as if he wasn’t expecting to be greeted like that. There was a slight flush to his face. “I-it’s nothing, don’t worry about it. You uh…you were great?” The boy seemed unsure of how to reply, though Hinata was happy with the compliment nonetheless. Maybe…
“What brings you here? I mean--agh, sorry! I just mean…I noticed you don’t have a regular schedule?” The words were practically falling out of his mouth and Hinata wasn’t really sure what they were doing. “Like you show up a few days in a row but then go three weeks without stopping by at all!” He was just digging a bigger grave for himself! Great!
“Ah uhm…I’m not from around here.” The boy scratched at the back of his neck. Maybe Hinata should back off.
“O-oh, yeah of course. Duh. Are you visiting family or something?”
“Not quite. I really should get going though. See you…later?”
“Yeah, see you later.”
“Hey Aniki, are you coming or not? The food’s gonna get cold!”
“Coming!”
---
It was almost a month before the boy appeared again. In the time between, Hinata had come up with a million different ideas for what his life was like. Was he a delinquent who skipped school to hang out on the street with gangs (how scary! But he looked strong enough to fit in)? Or was he a runaway from a city far away, somewhere Hinata only dreamed of visiting like Okinawa? Maybe he had a bad relationship with his dad and ran away, a thought that Hinata hated to admit had crossed his mind more than once. Or maybe he just passed through the city on the way to somewhere else. That seemed to be the most likely option, especially if he couldn’t come very often.
When the boy did finally show up again, Hinata had to hold himself back from practically jumping him after the performance. Something looked…different about him though. His eyes seemed more tired? Like he hadn’t been sleeping well. Hinata thought of a fight he had with his dad a few weeks ago that made it hard for him to sleep and thought maybe this boy was the same as him in that regard.
Hinata decided to wave him down after the performance, hat in hand (they had done pretty well! It felt heavier than normal and even without counting everything, they’d probably have enough for breakfast too).
“Hey! You look tired, are you--did you want to get something to eat?” Please say yes please say yes please say yes--
The boy’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Did Hinata mess up? Oh he overstepped and now there really wasn’t any chance of getting to know him. Why was he so interested in talking to the boy anyway? Hinata had been asking himself that for a while now and he still had no answer.
“I…I can’t. I need to go.” The boy turned and ran off before Hinata could ask more. He just kept messing up, didn’t he? Maybe he really was just a burden to Yuta and their dad and the restaurant owner. He shouldn’t have been born and Yuta would’ve been better off--
“Aniki! Sheesh, get your head out of the clouds. How much did we make?” Yuta grabbed the hat out of Hinata’s hand and quickly counted out the coins and bills. “Woah! We could eat a whole five course meal with this…”
“Think with your head a little Yuta-kun. We’ve got breakfast paid for if we don’t blow it all tonight!”
Yuta nodded before handing the hat back to Hinata. “So, my pick tonight?”
---
Hinata signed the note, trying his best to keep the tears from dripping on it and smudging the ink. After his blunder with the red haired boy, he hadn’t shown up to their performances for over two months. Hinata was certain that he had messed up and was too forward. He didn’t even know the kid’s name! Why did he think the two of them could ever be friends?
And on top of all of that, Yuta had become more and more distant from Hinata, as if Hinata just existing was dragging him back from his full potential. Yuta would have been better off as an only child and maybe Hinata deserved this life. Thirteen years living with their father, who had treated them as nothing but monsters, blaming them for their mother’s death and everything bad that had happened since, Hinata had resolved to run away. He’d make his way to the mountains and maybe he’d find someone willing to help him or maybe he’d slip into an endless sleep.
Dear Yuta-kun, the letter had started. I’m sorry that I’m leaving like this, but I know that I’m just a burden to you. I’m sorry for that. I wish I had more to say but I just want you to be happy and maybe father will treat you better without me. I love you.
The other letter, already folded and placed on the table, was much shorter, addressed to his father.
Dear Father, I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better son. Please don’t take this out on Yuta-kun, it was my decision.
The less words he spent on that man, the better. Hinata folded Yuta’s note and placed it on top before quietly exiting through the front door.
---
Everything was cold. Hinata slumped against a tree, head between his knees in a last ditch effort to keep warm. Sleep should come soon and he could painlessly move on, at least that’s what he hoped. He barely registered someone approaching him, but didn’t look up.
“Hey.” The voice was vaguely familiar, but where did he remember it from? A warm hand shook at Hinata’s shoulder.
“‘M fine.” The words were barely a whisper. The other voice grunted before walking away. It was another minute before Hinata felt something drape around his shoulders and a cup shoved in his hand. Whatever was in it was steaming, warming his fingers.
“Drink.” The voice said. And he did, the tea was very, very bitter. That voice…
Hinata looked up, meeting a pair of bright, sky blue eyes. That’s where he recognized the voice from. Did he…live? In the mountains? The boy seemed to recognize him too. He was wearing a headband and what looked like very warm clothes that Hinata wished he had. Hinata finished the tea, trying not to focus on the flavor. It helped at least, in warming him up a bit.
“Why are you here?” The boy finally spoke again. It sounded like he was unsure if he should be mad or concerned, or both, but he offered Hinata another cup of tea, which he accepted if only to warm his fingers up. He pulled the blanket closer around his body.
“I…ran away.” Hinata looked downward, as if admitting this out loud was a cardinal sin. The boy gestured for him to continue. “I guess I just…I was dragging my brother down. I’m not really talented at anything like he is and I’m the reason our dad sees us as monsters. He shouldn’t have to deal with a brother like me.” Hinata wasn’t really sure why he was spilling this so easily. The boy was a good listener though, hanging on every word Hinata spoke. Was he shaking? He’d never admitted this out loud before and it felt oddly freeing to say it to someone.
He waited for a response, anything to chase away the uncomfortable silence Hinata had created with his confession. He really fucked up, didn’t he. He should have just kept that to himself like he always did instead of burdening a stranger like this!
“I…” The boy started, barely audible above Hinata’s racing heartbeat. “I’m glad you’re alive.” He sounded unsure of his words. Was he just trying to be nice? Of course he was, how else do you respond to a kid telling you something like this?
“You don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not. When I saw you singing and dancing…I think I realized something--” The boy cut himself off, the suddenness of it making Hinata look up. A moment later he heard his brother calling out from the woods behind him.
“Aniki! There you are!” Yuta tackled him to the ground, squeezing Hinata like he might just blow away in the wind if they weren’t careful. “You scared me! I can’t believe you’d do something like that!”
Tears pricked at Hinata’s eyes again. “I’m sorry, Yuta-kun. I’m really sorry.” He buried his face in Yuta’s jacket. His nose started to run, from the cold or the tears he couldn’t tell.
“You aren’t a burden to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you around Aniki!” Yuta pulled back, hands gripping Hinata’s shoulders. “Promise you won’t do something that stupid again.”
Hinata wiped the tears from his eyes, sparing a glance where the boy had been. It was as if he had never been there at all and Hinata had just hallucinated the whole interaction. He looked back at his twin brother. “I promise.”
“Now let's get you home and warmed up. Where’d you get this blanket anyway? It doesn’t look like one of ours.”
“I…” The boy had been real, and he told Hinata he was glad he was alive (even if his explanation was cut short by Hinata’s brother rushing in). “I guess I just found it. There must be people living nearby or something.”
---
The chatter of the night club died down for the night as everyone was getting ready to go home. Hinata’s feet were sore from running around, but it was satisfying to be back in a restaurant like this. It reminded him of his childhood working for the Chinese restaurant with Yuta.
Rinne, the leader of Crazy:B who had wanted to get closer to Hinata, and by extension 2wink, slid a drink down the bar. It looked like a horrible mix of syrups and club soda, but one sip was all it took for Hinata to drink it all down.
“Great job tonight Hina! You’re a real natural at this stuff.” Rinne was washing the other glasses behind the bar now as Hinata finished the rest of his soda.
“Yuta-kun and I used to work in a restaurant so it comes pretty naturally to us!”
“That so?”
“Mhm!” Hinata slid the empty glass back to Rinne, who quickly dumped the ice and washed it before tossing the towel over his shoulder. The entire week they’d been working the club together, there had been something bugging Hinata at the back of his mind. “Hey, Rinne-senpai…did you ever watch our shows?”
“Huh? ‘Course I have, vice prez wants us to work together so I’ve seen a few of ‘em.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean like…back when Yuta-kun and I did street performances.”
Rinne paused for a moment. “Why’re you askin’?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. You just reminded me of someone who used to watch them.”
“Well I’m sure whoever it was is proud to see you singin’ and dancin’ on stage.” Rinne had come around the bar and stood next to Hinata, ruffling his hair. “Let’s get goin’ or I’m never gonna hear the end of it from Niki-kun.”
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Seven Sentence Sunday
Um. Hello.
This is more than seven sentences clearly, but, aside from the fact that I'm bad at counting, I do feel like I owe some back sentences from the last two months or so.
Worked on a chunk from LWH this weekend so here's Eddie and Buck dealing with Christopher running away to his apartment.
Leaving Christopher on the couch with his backpack (his go bag, Eddie’s brain fills in) and instructions not to even think about pulling out one of Buck’s video games, Eddie heads back into the kitchen. There’s no sign of Taylor, which is a relief, and no sign of Buck either, which is confusing until Eddie turns his head and finds him out on the balcony.
Buck’s back is to him and the thick glass of the windows keeps the sound of his conversation locked outside so Eddie doesn’t realize he’s in the middle of an animated phone call until he’s opening the door and joining him outside.
“-kind of driver just picks up a kid without talking to the parent first? He’s still supposed to be in a booster seat! No, I don’t want a-a-a- refund. I want you to send me the driver’s contact information so I can- No. No, he’s the one who picked up an unaccompanied minor. Don’t you care that you could have a kidnapper working for your company?” Buck clenches his free hand and leans against the balcony as he’s evidently interrupted by the person he’s arguing with and Eddie closes the door again with himself on the outside.
“Yes, he was dropped off where he was supposed to be. No, he’s not hurt. But that’s not the point! No- That’s not-” Furious energy spins Buck around and Eddie gets a glimpse of rare and intimidating anger before Buck’s eyes widen in surprise at seeing him there. “Look, do you have a supervisor I can talk to? No, right now, please. I don’t want a call back.”
“Sorry,” he mouths to Eddie as his cheeks go a little pink.
Shaking his head, Eddie leans back against the door and tucks his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t know exactly what Buck’s apologizing for, but suspects that it’s not for keeping Eddie waiting while he finishes the call. It makes Eddie want to shake him a little even as his heart overflows with warmth.
I'm gonna do this weird because it's late and I've been tagged by so many lovely people that there's just no way I can remember them all so I'm just gonna go ahead and tag everyone I can think of. If you've already posted today, just consider this a tag for next time or just a note to say that I'm glad you're in my tumblr-sphere: @rewritetheending, @devirnis, @mellaithwen, @panbuckley, @bigfootsmom, @princessfbi, @renecdote, @fleurdebeton, @gayhoediaz, @fcntasmas, @sibylsleaves, @walkinginland, @buckactuallys, @hopeintheashes, @shortsighted-owl, @tulipfromtheinternet, @thekristen999, @try-set-me-on-fire, @nymika-arts, @like-the-rest-of-la, @lovebuck
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