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Sarah Monette, the Victim Dilemma, the Aesthetic of Suffering and the Uncanny Valley of Arse Rape
by Wardog
Monday, 27 April 2009
Wardog fails to finish Sarah Monette's Corambis.~
Massive massive massive massive spoilers for about 1/3 of the book. Also, as the title suggests, this article is about nasty things so don’t read if you’re likely to be upset
Preramble (like a preamble but … d’you see?)
This is a bleak day indeed. I just got my hands on a copy of Corambis, the much-anticipated (by me at least) concluding part to Sarah Monette’s Doctrine of Labyrinths quartet and the truth of it is, I don’t think I can finish it.
Oh, Sarah, what happened? I do still love you, I just don’t think it’s working out.
I think it’s partially problems associated with reading through a series over a lengthy period of time. When I read Melusine, The Virtu was already out in hardback and I tore through at them enthusiastically, so drawn into the world and the characters that I barely noticed they were so heavily saturated in angst and woe that one could drown in it by simply opening the book a little recklessly. There was a bit of a wait for The Mirador – which I seem to recall I felt slightly less positively about but still adored – and I fell upon Mehitabel Parr’s I’m sure welcoming bosom to save me from the tidal waves of A&W. As much as I love Felix and Mildmay, it was Mehitabel’s narrative voice that made The Mirador bearable for me. It was such a necessary contrast to the boys: someone with some redeeming sense of self-irony, hurrah!
Of course, Mehitabel isn’t in Corambis. And, God, I miss her. There is a new viewpoint character, Kay Brightmore, blinded and imprisoned and weighed down by the terrible military failure that kicks off the book. He’s basically lost everything that ever mattered to him, can no longer fight on account of being blind and, needless to say, he has angst out the wazoo about it. I was broken and crying by Chapter three.
And, quite frankly, I just can’t take it. I know there is redemption in the future of these characters (characters I really care about, having spent three books with them), I know there is self-actualisation and the potential for happiness, I know because I cheated and looked, but I’ve really really struggled with Corambis. The worst of it is, I’m sure it will be a triumphant and satisfying conclusion to the quartet. Sarah Monette is an excellent writer, I love her world, I love the way she uses language, I love her characters, I love everything about her but I think I’m going to have to accept the fact I simply can’t read her.
Oh, Sarah, what happened? I do still love you, it’s not you, it’s me.
Maybe in a couple of years we’ll be able to work something out.
I think circumstances might be playing into this unhappy state of affairs as well. When I read the early books, there wasn’t a cloud in my sky. But having emerged from a rather bleak year, there’s something a little too close in all that guilt and grief and self-loathing and despair, and I can’t distance myself enough from it to enjoy it. There is a systematic aestheticisation of suffering to be found in all of Monette’s books. I’m not going to try and argue that as either a positive or negative quality in her work. I think it’s probably neutral: it’s
something
art
does
sometimes
. I acknowledge the difference between literary suffering and real suffering, in that there can be a romance in the former which is impossible in the latter. Also literary suffering exists in a wider, symbolic and allegorical sphere than that of an individual having shitty things done to them by life or others, mainly, I suspect, because it’s not real. Take madness – there is something deeply attractive and romantic about the artistic representation of madness (like Felix’s madness in Melusine) and it’s perfectly possible to appreciate that, and to find in it a kind of beauty, without ignoring the genuine distress suffered by the mentally ill. In short, Ophelia is not my friend who killed herself last year.
But the boundaries between the fictional and the real are not comprehensively signposted. There isn’t a traceable spectrum between Lavinia, daughter of Titus Andronicus, and Elizabeth Short. And ultimately I think there comes an impossible point when the literary and the real collide, corrupt each other and prove they are utterly irreconcilable and yet simultaneously inseparable. Yes, they must be understood as different things operating in a different way – a painting of St Sebastian is not the same as footage of the prisoners at Guantanamo bay – but there comes a point when it is necessary to remember what it is that’s being aestheticised and ask yourself why.
Page 152
Okay, so, there’s a gang-rape scene in Corambis.
Felix – former prostitute, broken gay wizard with ex-cruel master and traumatic past - ends up subjecting himself a thaumaturgic orgy in order to earn money to pay for his ailing brother’s medicine.
It’s awful.
It’s not that it’s explicit, just awful.
And I’m no wuss, okay. I’ve read Last Exit to Brooklyn. I’ve read The Wasp Factory. I’ve read American Psycho.
But something about this scene in this book bought me a first class ticket on the ARGH! Train and whizzed me straight out of my comfort zone.
It’s strange to say that something is “outside your comfort zone” in that it feels like a confession of personal failure (also something that’s outside my comfort zone). And then I thought about it more, and I thought: hey, so what, gang-rape is outside my comfort zone. Surely that’s normal. Gang-rape is absolutely something that should be outside all our comfort zones. But here’s where it gets complicated: in fact, fictional gang-rape is not outside my comfort zone. I play H-games, for God’s sake, where they’re ten a penny. You can’t take two steps in an H-game without stubbing your toe on a gang rape. So it’s something more specific than that. It was something about this particular portrayal of it.
It’s not shock value. Felix gets himself sexually abused on a pretty regular basis, so much so, in fact, that it’s kind of part of the fun, and it’s very much tied into Monette’s aesthetic of suffering.
I could not see, and I could barely hear, save for my own harsh breathing. But I could feel. I could Malkar’s hands like silk, running up and down my back, tracing the scars, the old palimpsest of pain. I could feel his body arching against me, his bulk, his heat. I felt his hands slide under my hips, stroking, exciting, felt the stiffness of him against my thigh.
Pain, then, but not too much.
Pain … and arousal all woven together like a tapestry. I was moaning, gasping; the only word I could form were “Please, Malkar, please, lease,” and I didn’ tknow if I was begging him to stop or continue. Not that it would made the slightest difference either way.
Let’s pin our colours to the mast here. That’s beautiful. Terrible, but beautiful and absolutely literary in its unrealness. It’s also about as accurate a portrayal of sexual abuse than St Sebastian up there is of martyrdom. Perhaps I’m just an irredeemable sicko but I’m pretty sure it’s there, to an extent, to be enjoyed, partially as spectacle (straight women do not generally write about beautiful gay boys sexing each other manipulatively because it’s a Serious Social Issue) and, also, partially as vindication for all the crappy things that have been done to innumerable female characters in a seventy years of fantasy fiction. I’m not, of course, advocating backlash (more manrape!) but there is something compelling and, even perhaps comforting, in characters like Felix, Alec and friends, these beautiful men, who are as sexually vulnerable as women, suffer and fear the sort of things women suffer and fear, and are very much created to be subjects of an extra-textual female gaze and the intra-textual male gaze. I’m not saying that men don’t get raped and looked at, but the sheer saturation is demonstrably less. I am not trying to say that what happens to Felix at the start of Melusine isn’t dreadful. It is. But it’s a literary violation, and it reduces him to a literary madness that is as terrible and as beautiful as the horror that creates it.
But let’s talk about gang rape. Now there’s something you don’t say everyday.
The scene itself written in a very similar style – opulent, not too explicit although more explicit than above, and contains the same awkward issues of dubious consent. In Melusine, Felix chooses to go to Malkar in a fit of self loathing. In Corambis he agrees theoretically to an orgy in order to raise money for Mildmay’s medical treatment. In both cases what ends up happening to him is far more devastating than what he originally signed up for but, equally, there’s an element of complicity to it. If you return to your abusive master, expect to get abused. If you agree to be the centerpiece of an orgy, expect to get fucked. This abject stupidity is granted a psychological plausibility because Felix is a messed up little bunny, with a supposedly tragic conviction of his own profound worthlessness.
Obviously I don’t want to get into real issues here, but I think the reason the dubious consent became one of the bothering aspects of the scene in Corambis is that the sex abuse came plot-approved. I mean, if Felix was walking down the street and happened to get jumped and gang raped by a bunch of guys I think many a reader might rightly cry “Sarah Monette, what the fuck?” as there are very few occasions in which it is either appropriate or necessary to get one of your characters gang raped. But this way he has a “real” reason to put himself voluntarily into a position where he might be. It’s even, perhaps, meant to be on some level noble – in a hopelessly fucked up way, of course. So what you end up with is a deeply uncomfortable situation in which everything conspires, including (conveniently) Felix himself, to create a scenario in which a horrible but beautifully written gang rape is, to an extent, okay. And this is where the aesthetic of suffering starts to come apart at the seams.
Essentially this scene falls right into the uncanny valley. If it was purely designed for titillation I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but as it is there are elements are titillation and elements of horror. We are meant to be shocked and appalled – and it is shocking and appalling – but it’s framed in such a way that we are simultaneously liberated to relish the aesthetic. And quite frankly that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I think there’s something profoundly hypocritical and, indeed, deeply disturbing in the idea of enjoying both moral outrage and illicit sexual excitement (see Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse). The scene bears all the hallmarks of erotic non-con (there are elements of psychological exposure as well as physical, the victim is physically aroused throughout, the abusers are appreciative of his beauty and his apparent eagerness, and so on and so forth) but worked through a guilt-appeasing filter of “oh gosh, isn’t this terrible.”
My ankles were still chained and somebody had me scruffed like a kitten; I was keening in protest, but I was dragged upright, forced to straddle someone’s thighs, while he continued fucking me with the same relentless steadiness. I was displayed for all of them, my arousal jutting out shamelessly, the tear tracks on my face attesting to my weakness.
Now, I know that, unlike erotic non-con, Felix is not secretly into what’s being done to him and that he’s breaking and being broken here but you still have a scene that’s running in two directions simultaneously and trying to have its cake and eat it. It goes out of its way to tick the non-con wink-wink boxes but then slaps you face in the face with its insistence that this a terrible and traumatic event. Essentially you can’t have a gorgeously written gang rape that positions itself within a carefully constructed aesthetic framework and a psychologically accurate and traumatic portrait of a terrible ordeal.
And, ultimately, I guess you have to ask yourself if it’s okay to have an aesthetic gang rape scene full stop. The idea bothers me less as pornography but here, I would argue, that it gains an added erotic piquancy from the fact it really is annihilating Felix, which, again is troublesome. Essentially it’s why raping Clarissa is so much more interesting than raping Justine, and why it’s all right to get off on the latter and not the former.
The more I’ve thought about this and tried to articulate my issues with it, the more complex and convoluted it has become. There is, of course, an element of the purely personal about – I didn’t like it and it upset me – as well as these more abstract, intellectualizations of it. I dug around on Monette’s Livejournal – on which is usually charming and sensible – to see what I could find and, lo and behold, she has written quite comprehensively on the subject, which I shall now quote pretty much in its entirety:
I knew from very early on that Felix was going to turn back to prostitution to get the money for a doctor for someone he loved (I knew this was going to happen before I knew Mildmay existed), and I knew that he was going to end up in a situation that was completely out of his control and that hurt him badly. Because Felix is reckless and self-destructive and because under all his vanity, he doesn't think he's worth protecting. And because it is a kind of answering horror to his being raped by Malkar at the beginning of Mélusine. And because he needed something that would force him to confront these issues--force him to see that he doesn't deserve to be abused--and it had to be something superlatively unbearable if it was going to get through to him, because Felix has way too much experience at ignoring his own pain.
Say what? So it’s redemptive gang rape, the sort makes you a stronger and better person? What … the … fuck? It’s like those Hollywood amnesia plotlines (one blow to the head gives you amnesia, another blow cures it) except with sexual abuse. I know, again, we’re operating in a fictional sphere but this is so made of wrong that I’ll just content myself with linking to Dan’s article on
the victim dilemma
and throw my hands up in despair.
I quite enjoy Monette’s aestheticisation of suffering, I could probably navigate the uncanny valley if I really had to but I am sick to death of male fantasy writers using sexual abuse as a textual shortcut for character development and I’m damned if I’m going to deal with women doing the same thing. Sarah Monette, you are better than this.
Sexual abuse is not good for you. It happens and people react. Constantly depicting characters who react to it in courageous and life-enhancing ways is not empowering, it’s fucking demeaning to people who struggle along every day as best they can.
I’m sure in a different time in a different mood I’ll pick up Corambis again and I’ll get to page 152 and I’ll shrug and go “gang rape, meh” and read right on.
But not today.Themes:
Damage Report
,
Books
,
Sarah Monette
,
Sci-fi / Fantasy
~
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~Comments (
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)
Arthur B
at 14:44 on 2009-04-27It's depressing when series go south like this. It's especially annoying when they burn down the virtues of the earlier volumes. I was looking at your first Monette review and you were saying how you were impressed by the fact that Felix was gay, but it kind of wasn't a big deal; I'm getting the impression that as the series goes on that becomes less true, since that LJ extract makes it sounds like Monette intended all along to reduce Felix to a weepy gay man being abused by angry gay men. (If I'm interpreting that right - if Felix pimping himself out predates the existence of Mildmay, that means that Monette was planning to make this happen since before the first book, right?)
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Wardog
at 15:11 on 2009-04-27Mmm, that's part of the problem though. I don't actually think it's "gone south" - despite the Xtreme angst I was quite absorbed until page 152. It was merely that scene that tripped me out. I'm sure if I could put it behind me and just get on with the book, I'd probably really like it.
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Rude Cyrus
at 20:32 on 2009-04-27Great, now I need a shower.
While I suppose rape can be presented as being aesthetically pleasing, like in erotic non-con, I still don't like it. I've always found consenting sex between happy, willing partners infinitely more pleasurable -- don't ask me why. This sort of stuff just makes my skin crawl.
What's funny is that I can make it through The 120 Days of Sodom without blinking, but I think that's because De Sade insisted on using the driest, most tortured language possible.
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Wardog
at 21:15 on 2009-04-27Sorry Cyrus. I'm not sure but I think it's probably easier to be into erotic non-con / rape fantasy if you're a woman than a man, either because you're more likely to imagine yourself as the rapee rather than the rapist which is slightly easier to deal with morally speaking or because the world seems generally reluctant to admit that women can rape people too. Whereas if you're a man who fantasies about forcing women to have sex with him ... well ... hostility many ensue from quarters unwilling to concede the very real difference between fantasy, reality and simulated non-con.
Hmm, I think the thing about 120 Days of Sodom is that, as you say, it's incredibly dull. And de Sade is a terrible writer. There's only one thing worse than a rape scene and that's a badly written rape scene!
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Arthur B
at 21:18 on 2009-04-27I do wonder sometimes whether deSade was an early pen-and-paper troll. Most of his books seem to be the literary equivalent of telling someone a particular link goes to an interesting and thought-provoking philosophy website when actually it points to goatse or 2girls1cup.
I mean, he went to jail for it, but you have to make sacrifices for "the lulz", as I believe the young people call it these days.
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http://roisindubh211.livejournal.com/
at 02:43 on 2009-04-28"Constantly depicting characters who react to it in courageous and life-enhancing ways is not empowering, it’s fucking demeaning to people who struggle along every day as best they can."
I have to disagree here- not with the point you make, but with the accusation being levelled at Monette. Felix has spent three books getting abused and every reaction to it has been, basically, "I was right all along, I am worthless. Hmmm, should I hurt myself again or just re-alienate everyone who cares about me tonight?" The enormity of the gang-rape is something he's not prepared to consider his just desserts, and it isn't the only influence on his growth as a person. A lot has to do with having Mildmay -who has been developing his own self-confidence, on his own, without the help of shitty things happening to him- be there for him and push and push to get him (Felix) not to hurt himself any more.
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Wardog
at 09:13 on 2009-04-28
The enormity of the gang-rape is something he's not prepared to consider his just desserts, and it isn't the only influence on his growth as a person.
I do see your point and I wasn't really dissing Monette, who I actually adore. There was just something about this scene, or the way it was presented, or *something* that was a bridge too far for me. And at first I was inclined to just ignore it and tell myself to stop being a wuss and then I got interested in *why* this scene was so problematic and, secondarily, I realised that, on a wider level, it should probably be okay to stand up and say "for me, this gang rape is not okay."
I will at some point finish Corambis, because I have *hugely* enjoyed the Doctrine of Labyrinths quartet (I have some reviews knocking around here in which I give much sweet sweet love), I think I just need some time to get away from the gang rape.
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Wardog
at 09:29 on 2009-04-28
I do wonder sometimes whether deSade was an early pen-and-paper troll
Dan and I like the idea of historical trolls, and also explains the Marquis far more than most of pop-psych nonsense I've read does =P
Lucifer, of course, would be the first troll - complaining about the mods.
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http://miss-morland.livejournal.com/
at 11:54 on 2009-04-28*giggles at the thought of de Sade and Lucifer as trolls*
I haven't read Monette's books, but I still found this post very interesting - it articulates my issues with non-con and dub-con in fiction very well. (I do wonder, though, if ambiguous portrayals of rape scenes are sometimes meant to make the readers think and question their own attitudes, instead of jumping to the safe reaction of 'OMG so horrible'?)
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Dan H
at 14:25 on 2009-04-28
I do wonder, though, if ambiguous portrayals of rape scenes are sometimes meant to make the readers think and question their own attitudes, instead of jumping to the safe reaction of 'OMG so horrible'?)
You might well be right, but even if that is the intent, it's a deeply flawed one.
Perhaps I'm just an arrogant shit, but I really hate it when people try to make me think about stuff unless it's in a medium *specifically designed* for that.
If you want to challenge my preconceptions about rape, write a book that is *about* challenging my preconcieved notions about rape. Don't try to do it in the middle of a fantasy series that is mostly about hot gay wizards gettin' it on.
If I want to have my ideas about absuse challenged, I'll read Lolita, or possibly I'll track down some abuse-survivors' weblogs. I won't read an otherwise ordinary fantasy novel or, for that matter, watch
Dollhouse
.
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Dan H
at 16:05 on 2009-04-28
The enormity of the gang-rape is something he's not prepared to consider his just desserts
I can't speak for Kyra, but the problem I have with this is that it suggests, falsely, that the more traumatic an experience is the less likely you are to blame yourself for it. I'm by no means an expert on the subject of abuse survival but from my limited experience people's tendency to self-blame for things is wholly unrelated to the severity of the abuse suffered. For that matter, the whole idea of rating abuse experiences in order of severity is a bit of a dodgy precedent.
Essentially I think there's an important, and worrying, difference between "Felix has experienced things like this before but, because he has grown as a person, and because of the influence of Mildmay, he does not blame himself for this experience" and "Felix has experienced things like this before but, because this experience is so much worse than the others, he cannot blame himself for it".
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http://sistermagpie.livejournal.com/
at 21:38 on 2009-05-01I haven't read this last book yet, but I'm glad for the heads-up. Having read the other 3 I can definitely see how this kind of thing would play, and I'm not surprised that she'd planned something like this from the beginning. It does make you think thought, about the idea that this character is constantly going through situations like this, and it's finally when he acheives the kind of abuse he might have always thought would be what he deserved, that he realizes he didn't deserve it. Even if Mildmay and other experiences are also part of his turnaround, I don't know whether that kind of catalyst will click for me the way another one might.
Like, rather than having him be in a situatio that's the same as before, but with one clear difference that makes him see it clearly, it's almost like Helen Keller at the well. Repeated fingerspelling over and over and finally he gets it.
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Wardog
at 15:28 on 2009-05-11I lost this temporarily in the deluge of comments about other things.
It is possible I've over-reacted to the gang rape; I suppose responses to these sort of motifs are always going to be extremely personal. I feel almost hypocritical because, as you say, there's plenty of indication previously that we were on the Sex Abuse Superhighway and something like this was probably bound to happen. But the way it's framed and written, combinated with its narrative function as a catalyst for change really really squicked me out. I know it's not necessarily meant to be psychologically plausible but there's something deeply worrying in the idea that there is a scale of sexual abuse, the extreme end of which teaches you self respect.
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valse de la lune
at 14:04 on 2011-07-12I tracked down
this interview
and I'm now extremely, thoroughly grossed out with Sarah Monette:
I think this does happen to gay male protagonists (the most obvious example is Mercedes Lackey's Last Herald-Mage books). And I think Felix does fall into this trap to a certain extent, although in my defense I will say that the reason he gets raped is because I was interested in the tension inherent in a character who could be both rapist and victim. Which could have been a woman, or a heterosexual man, but it was most obvious and easiest to mobilize with a gay man.
I also chose a gay male protagonist because my abiding interest is in the power dynamics of human relationships, especially sexual relationships, and it is VERY VERY HARD to write about that with a heterosexual female protagonist without pigeon-holing her and yourself into either a re-inscription of patriarchal gender roles (male dominant, female submissive) or a simple gender reversal (female dominant, male submissive) (which I did work with some in my novella, "A Gift of Wings," in The Queen in Winter). A lesbian relationship is also a possibility, but it's far more interesting and attention-grabbing to take power away from a man than it is to give power to a woman.
[...]
Also, because we live in a patriarchal society and have for several thousand years, there's nothing new or shocking about the idea that women are victims. (I'm not saying this is a good thing, mind you.) You can get more narrative charge out of victimizing a man and you aren't reinscribing the same old gender role patterns into that ever deeper groove of men act and women suffer.
What the fuck, Monette? My word, lesbian relationships aren't just ~hawt~ enough unlike slender
yaoi stereotypes
wizards sexing it up and... female empowerment is just too boring? Female victimization is just too
banal
to write about so gay men being degraded (and in this case, often raped by women) has more "narrative charge"? There's also something toward the end that basically goes "well, if you are writing about male rape it's super
titillating
shocking so people will recognize RAPE IS HORRIBLE whereas women being raped is just so
every day
so... hey, manpain! That'll get people
thinking
, right? Right!"
I don't know, all of this reads like the slash fangirl's justification why she's not interested in writing girls but wants to write hot boys instead, all disguised under a pretend layer of ~*soshul justeese*~.
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Wardog
at 23:33 on 2011-07-12Oh dear. I'm actually really annoyed with myself that it took me to Book IV to unpack what was going on with the, err, sexay mainpain and all the arse rape. I did quite like Monette initially - I think partially because when I first read Melusine I was still under the impression that gay characters were pretty rare in fantasy. To give Monette credit, when she actually bothers to be interested in them, she does write interesting female characters - I mean I *loved* Mehitabel from this series.
I think what freaks me out the most is that, as you observe, it's blatant titillation under the label of trangression. I have no problems with people getting their kicks from whatever they get their kicks from, as long as it's a carefully demarcated fantasy space, but pretending it's anything else is deeply toxic.
Also that interview was just awful :(
Maybe it's just because it doesn't apply to me but I don't understand why so many women find two dudes so unbelievably hawt but two women apparently tedious. Ho hum.
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valse de la lune
at 05:06 on 2011-07-13I think gay characters are still pretty rare in fantasy, but the gay dudes all seem to come from the same wellspring of fanfic tropes. I've read all the arguments as to why dudeslash is a female-positive space that enables women to explore their sexuality and I do get some of it, but I can't shake the feeling that so much of that is hot air; no matter how hard a slash fan argues I can't really see how spamming rape at gay dudes is particularly, y'know, feminist. Maybe it plays with power dynamics and whatnot but, on the other hand,
rape culture
.
I don't get the thing with YAY HAWT BOYS EWW GIRLS ARE BORING either, though it's been explained to me that most female characters aren't decently written so people'd sooner generate fanfic about boys instead. But that doesn't fly because fandom churns out great volumes of fanfic dedicated to minor male characters, even though some of them barely have a presence in the book/show/movie--see Figwit of the LOTR movies fame--whereas women, primary or tertiary, still get written out or villified. There are even
bingo cards
. Somewhere in that
is
a valid clause regarding how we're trained to look at media through male gateways thanks to patriarchy and we internalize that. Still don't get it on a personal level because I've always preferred female characters over male, but there it goes.
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Melissa G.
at 06:30 on 2011-07-13
Maybe it's just because it doesn't apply to me but I don't understand why so many women find two dudes so unbelievably hawt but two women apparently tedious. Ho hum.
Speaking as a straight woman who gets paid to translate yaoi, I can understand that pretty well. :-) It's not that I find girls boring as characters, but as someone who isn't sexually attracted to women, I find myself gravitating toward situations where I can look at/write about two sexy boys instead if I'm looking for smexy times. (Though I'm very, very picky these days about yaoi because of tropes I'm sure I've mentioned before.)
I feel some sympathy for Monette because I do have a hard time verbalizing my tastes without resorting to those same basic arguments about power play or feeling the need to judge the female character and how she is portrayed specifically because she's female (which I wish I didn't, but I do so...). What I find odd is the fact that everyone insists on asking me *why* I find male-on-male romance so appealing, and then I'm stuck in this hem-hawing, putting-on-airs defense because I'm too embarrassed to just go, "Two guys doing stuff to each other is hot?"
(Uh-oh, now I'm having Dorian Gray flashbacks. Oh, Ben Barnes, you scamp, you!!)
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Steve Stirling at 07:07 on 2011-07-13
I don't get the thing with YAY HAWT BOYS EWW GIRLS ARE BORING either
-- you get exactly the same in reverse from male writers a lot, so I don't see that there's any mystery about it.
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valse de la lune
at 07:20 on 2011-07-13I don't think Kyra's asking "why male-on-male?" but more "why do people find women inexplicably boring?"
but as someone who isn't sexually attracted to women, I find myself gravitating toward situations where I can look at/write about two sexy boys instead if I'm looking for smexy times.
That doesn't make sense to me because, even outside of sexual context, a lot of slashers just don't want to write women period and I'm sure we don't always only write about what's sexually/romantically attractive to us (or no straight man would ever write male characters).
It also doesn't really answer why women are so villified and hated by fandom at large: why people like Monette believe "it's more interesting to take power away from a man than to give power to a woman," or why slash is passed off as some wonderful female-positive space when it involves a lot of female-negative things, including but not limited to slut-shaming and othering women. Ogle hot boys, whatever (but even so, why so much fucking rape all the fucking time? Why the infantilizing tropes?). But I think you can do that without contributing to misogyny and rape culture.
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Steve Stirling at 07:24 on 2011-07-13
I don't think Kyra's asking "why male-on-male?" but more "why do people find women inexplicably boring?"
-- I don't. I actually had to start flipping coins at one point to make sure my characters weren't predominantly female.
Maybe it's because I was in single-sex schools for a lot of my adolescence, but I just find women more interesting than men. More complex and variable, on average.
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Steve Stirling at 07:38 on 2011-07-13
Ogle hot boys, whatever (but even so, why so much fucking rape all the fucking time? Why the infantilizing tropes?). But I think you can do that without contributing to misogyny and rape culture.
-- I don't read much (any, really) slash, but the actually-published equivalents like the book described here don't seem particularly misogynist to me. Just obsessed with Hot Boys in Chains.
As for the rape and stuff, a lot of people get off on that. Trying to tell people that the sexual fantasies which ring their chimes aren't permissible is roughly equivalent to trying to scold water until it voluntarily runs uphill. Much effort, little result.
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valse de la lune
at 07:45 on 2011-07-13
I don't. I actually had to start flipping coins at one point to make sure my characters weren't predominantly female.
Thank you, Minority Warrior, but if you are a bloke that's not exactly addressed to you.
I don't read much (any, really) slash, but the actually-published equivalents like the book described here don't seem particularly misogynist to me. Just obsessed with Hot Boys in Chains.
I've only read the first book and the gang-rape scene in the fourth, but a lot of the women in this series like to rape gay men for some strange reason.
Melusine
opens with an anecdote about the pure, true love between men. Two women get between it; one proceeds to rape one of the men repeatedly until he wants to kill himself. So, yes, both fandom slash and published slash perpetuate a lot of the same crap. Then there's Monette's interview and strange leaps of illogic which read sexist as hell to me.
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Melissa G.
at 08:48 on 2011-07-13
That doesn't make sense to me because, even outside of sexual context, a lot of slashers just don't want to write women period and I'm sure we don't always only write about what's sexually/romantically attractive to us (or no straight man would ever write male characters).
I can't speak to that. I don't know why so many writers are so anti-female characters, and it would take me pages of musing to try and come to a conclusion. I was referring specifically to sexual situations (by which I mean stories centering on sex) because the comment I was particularly responding to was "why do so many women find two dudes so unbelievably hot but two women apparently tedious". Which I read as "why do so many women love writing about two guys (sexually) but find writing about two women so boring (sexually)". Perhaps I misinterpreted what Kyra was saying. I stated clearly that I don't find women boring as characters to read and write about, but that I understand why many women gravitate toward male homosexual relationships and why they might find it arousing when they are writing merely to titillate themselves/others.
I haven't read the series in question so I take everyone's word for it that the rape isn't handled well and misogyny abounds. And trust me, I'm the first person to get fed up with the kind of tropes male-on-male stuff tends to come with - especially when written by someone who's probably never even spoken to a gay man before. I got fed up with one author in particular because her protagonists kept falling for their rapists, yuck. But just because a lot of it sucks and perpetuates some seriously shitty stuff doesn't mean that it's not okay to find guy-on-guy stuff hot. And I really don't appreciate being made to feel like because I like it, I am somehow in danger of losing my feminist card.
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valse de la lune
at 09:57 on 2011-07-13I don't think I have been suggesting that if you like slash, you're in danger of losing your feminist cred; being a feminist doesn't exactly mean everything you consume must be feminist, after all, and we all enjoy things that are problematic to some degree. I just don't like how it's put forward as a YAY WOMEN field when it's not really. Likewise, I've been shouted down in fandom spaces for calling out misogyny in slash, something along the line of
you will find it is you who is misogyny
.
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valse de la lune
at 10:06 on 2011-07-13(Sorry that I'm coming down harshly such that you feel you're being discredited as a feminist, though.)
One more thing--I've been told over and over that there is a strong presence of queer women in slash circles, so for some it's not so much a matter of "I'm straight so more cocks yay!!!" In fact, with so many queer women around--so many lesbians even--you'd think there would be more F/F fanfic. But there isn't, so...
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Melissa G.
at 10:23 on 2011-07-13
I don't think I have been suggesting that if you like slash, you're in danger of losing your feminist cred
I think I was responding defensively to this comment:
Ogle hot boys, whatever (but even so, why so much fucking rape all the fucking time? Why the infantilizing tropes?). But I think you can do that without contributing to misogyny and rape culture.
It basically felt to me like my entire sexual preference/fetish/whatever was being boiled down to "ogling hot boys". It’s those kinds of dismissive, judgmental comments that make me feel like I need to somehow justify what I find arousing. That’s why you have people arguing that it’s pro-women or empowering or whatever to write and read man-on-man love stories. When an attraction is called into question, I think often women in particular feel the need to base that attraction in something intellectual and philosophical. Because it would be wrong for a woman to just find something titillating or arousing. Because women aren’t supposed to like sex just for sex.
I think there are ways that it can be empowering (I wouldn't go so far as to say 'feminist'), but most of it fails in this regard. For me, when I read a story with a male bottom that I can relate to as far as sexual behavior, it makes me feel less weird. There's something freeing about the behavior being related to the position and not the gender, for me anyway. I think that also relates to why an author might find it more interesting (and by interesting I mean because they find it hot) to take power away from men. For some women who are attracted to men, there is something very fascinating and seductive about a man submitting (either sexually or emotionally), probably because it's something so commonly associated with female behavior. So again, it becomes less of a gender thing and more of a relationship role thing. If that makes any sense....
I just don't like how it's put forward as a YAY WOMEN field when it's not really.
I totally understand that. I actually avoid fan written slash like the plague because most of it is just not good. Most of it is (I think) influenced by yaoi, which oh dear god, has such problems. There is so much rape and questionable consent and a lot of "I'm only gay for that guy" and such overly traditional female behavior (even though one of them is male, go figure). And the kind of people you've probably argued with are likely the kind of people who make me afraid to admit I'm part of the yaoi subculture.
But there is good stuff out there. I promise. :-)
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Melissa G.
at 10:26 on 2011-07-13
One more thing--I've been told over and over that there is a strong presence of queer women in slash circles, so for some it's not so much a matter of "I'm straight so more cocks yay!!!" In fact, with so many queer women around--so many lesbians even--you'd think there would be more F/F fanfic. But there isn't, so...
Sorry, I made my long post before I saw this! That is odd. Why don't they focus on yuri? Yuri is slowly becoming a more female dominated genre. It's kind of cool actually that the female authors are slowly co-opting a genre that was once basically male-written lesbian porn for men. To each their own, I guess?
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valse de la lune
at 10:59 on 2011-07-13
It basically felt to me like my entire sexual preference/fetish/whatever was being boiled down to "ogling hot boys".
But... I said that because I think it's pretty dandy if you're just in it for the ogling of hot boys, or balls being cupped gently, or even self-lubing anuses. I don't think you, or anyone else, need to justify it any further than that. Think it's hot? Go for it! That's excellent. Objectifying
men
in and of itself, separate from the concern over straight people fetishizing homosexuality, doesn't really bother me. I'm not questioning the appeal of slash: I'm questioning some of the tropes, the homophobia, the misogyny. Which certainly aren't universal, but there sure is a lot of them to go around. Hell, gay male characters written by straight men also get raped an awful lot (hi Richard Morgan, thank you for that graphic schoolboy gang rape).
Disclosure: I think lesbians are awesome. I'd like to read more stuff with lesbian representation. Being homoromantic does have something to do with it, though.
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Melissa G.
at 11:11 on 2011-07-13
But... I said that because I think it's pretty dandy if you're just in it for the ogling of hot boys, or balls being cupped gently, or even self-lubing anuses. I don't think you, or anyone else, need to justify it any further than that.
:-) I think it just came off as hostile because of the swearing, lol. To be honest, I was probably overly defensive because it's kind of a touchy thing for me.
I'm not questioning the appeal of slash: I'm questioning some of the tropes, the homophobia, the misogyny.
Yes, I'm with you here. I have a lot of trouble with a lot of boy/boy stuff that's out there.
Re: Lesbians
If you're looking to try out some yuri, I can lead you to some scanlation sites. I haven't read much yuri so I can't totally vouch for the content, but these are sites that I know of:
Lililicious
Payapaya
Just be sure to check for ratings and such. There was one on Lilicious I read years ago that I was enjoying.
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valse de la lune
at 11:14 on 2011-07-13OMG yay :D :D :D Thanks for the links. My friend's been sending me some too. I'm also quite pleased to see that a lot of yuri writers are female. Awesome.
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Cammalot
at 15:23 on 2011-07-13I JUST WANNA WATCH DUDES EMOTE. ;-)
I actually got into yaoi (not slash for whatever reason) because I was attracted to what I thought was the innate equality in such a a relationship. There are a variety of reasons I don't really seek out much fanfic anymore (one of which is the decade-plus that has gone by) but one of them is that I don't really see that equality getting embraced. (I'm necessarily truncating this, I have to imitate being a productive employee at the moment.)
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Melissa G.
at 19:40 on 2011-07-13
I JUST WANNA WATCH DUDES EMOTE. ;-)
Ooh, yes, good observation. I like that too.
I actually got into yaoi (not slash for whatever reason) because I was attracted to what I thought was the innate equality in such a a relationship.
Ditto. That's what I really like about it too, which is why I hate when they skew the power dynamic too far in one direction without somehow compensating for it in another way. I've never been into fanfic, but I do love doujinshi.
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Cammalot
at 19:48 on 2011-07-13I wrote up this whole long comment yesterday, but today with you guys' further conversation I realized I was addressing something that Pyro was not talking about, so I'm tweaking, but I don't think I'll have a chance to get to it today.
The extremely short version is that there's a very definite blockage that some women seem to have about writing women, and I had it myself for some time (and that some more extreme versions of it outright baffle me), and have spent a lot of time trying to process, discuss, and debate what the fuck that is about. With theories. I have theories.
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Melissa G.
at 19:53 on 2011-07-13
The extremely short version is that there's a very definite blockage that some women seem to have about writing women,
Definitely noticed this myself at times. I gravitate toward writing male characters, or at least I used to. I'm very interested to hear your theories whenever you find the time to write them up. :-)
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Sister Magpie
at 20:07 on 2011-07-13
Sorry, I made my long post before I saw this! That is odd. Why don't they focus
on yuri? Yuri is slowly becoming a more female dominated genre. It's kind of
cool actually that the female authors are slowly co-opting a genre that was once
basically male-written lesbian porn for men. To each their own, I guess?
I would guess that that's probably not all that related to the whole "that's my kink" thing, only not all kinks are sexual. That is, expecting them to explain it would probably be similar to having anybody explain why they find one thing more hot than another.
For instance, I like het and I like slash, but there are certain kinds of stories that could definitely be considered non-sexual kinks that I am more likely to read about in a m/m pairing than a f/m pairing or f/f pairing. I suppose I could try to relate it to power issues with gender IRL, but it's probably more just a kink if it's something I've pretty much always been drawn to.
I don't find that rape or "I'm only gay for that guy" seems to dominate most of the slash I come across, but I think that might often come down to different pairings leaning towards different dynamics. Or else also some authors being better than most.
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Steve Stirling at 22:44 on 2011-07-13Pyrofennec:
-of the women in this series like to rape gay men for some strange reason.Melusine opens with an anecdote about the pure, true love between men. Two women get between it; one proceeds to rape one of the men repeatedly until he wants to kill himself.
-- that is odd. I'd say it was evidence of misogyny if a guy wrote it, but I have trouble -imagining- a guy writing it, even a gay man. You'd need a very strange set of quirks to do so.
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Text
We Thought My Brother Overdosed. He Didn't.
by Andrunes
"It'd be easier on everyone if you just fucking died Jimmy!" was the last thing I ever said to my brother as I slammed the door to his apartment behind me.
The words echoing in my head on a constant loop, drowning out our friends and family offering their condolences to my parents and I as we sit beside his open casket.
I can't stand to look at him. Half out of guilt, the remainder his appearance. Drugs took his life but it robbed him of his looks long before that. Death has not redeemed him of this quality, it's amplified it.
"Alan, please" he said with an outstretched hand beckoning me to sit beside him on his dingy couch. "Don't leave." The lump in his throat as audible as the welling of his eyes were visible.
Despite his pleading, I just left him there. I should have done something. I could have done something. Instead, I told my own brother he should die and either he, or God, or both agreed with me because later that night he did.
We didn't know exactly what substance it was that he was abusing that did it. We were still waiting on the toxicology report for that.
People will tell you that it's not my fault. People will insist that I loved my brother. People will say that I'm a good man. People are wrong.
This is my fault. I own it. I abandoned my own flesh and blood in frustration when he needed me most. Hours passed before my conscience finally got the better of me that night and by the time I made it back to his home to make amends, it was too late.
I stood at his entrance practicing my apology. Testing the best sentences I could use to tell him how sorry I was but in the same breath, truly get through to him that his demons were tearing our parents apart.
My rehearsal was interrupted by a squishing sound from beneath my feet as I paced. The industrial carpet lining the corridors of the run down complex were wet. The dirty beige colour now a dark brown in an uneven half circle where it's been saturated most at the foot of my brothers' door.
I apprehensively used my spare key to gain entrance. Cool droplets of water dripped down from the ceiling. Puddles pooled deep in sections on the uneven floors. My guilt morphed into anger instantly as I wondered how much my parents would have to pay the landlord for the damages my little brother has caused to his property.
It builds into blind rage as I jerk in surprise as one of the drops from the ceiling falls onto my face.
The emotion fades faster than it came when I turned my body towards Jimmy's living room preparing to give him hell.
My voice catches in my throat when my gaze finds its destination.
There he sat, lifeless on the sofa where I left him. His mouth agape, eyes wide and nearly completely white. His soaking wet t-shirt molded to his skinny body revealing the contour of his ribcage. His hand outstretched at his side resting on the unoccupied cushion as if even in death he requested my companionship.
"Jimmy!" I shout as I scramble towards him splashing in the puddles as I ran. I held him in my arms screaming his name and tapping his cold face with my hand. "Please, wake up!" My voice cracking in terror.
I recoil in surprise as a drop lands on my hand breaking my daydream as I sit slumped in the funeral homes' chair. I instinctively look to the ceiling as if I were still at Jimmy's apartment. Realizing too late that I was the source. I've been silently crying this whole time.
The rest of the viewing was as hard as you would expect for a family bidding a 26 year old member farewell. The burial was even worse. There's something about the finality of the closing coffin that leaves you so empty you'd swear a piece of you was in there with your loved one, never to see the light of day again. I wish I could tell you that it became easier on us in the weeks that followed but I won't lie to you. I can't find it in me to care enough for that.
It's been especially hard on my mother in the six weeks that have passed. She had spent most of it watching old home videos of my brother as a child. Birthday parties, piano recitals, graduations and the like. Her nights however are filled with quiet weeping from her upstairs bedroom, clutching a photo of him in a frame she keeps by her bedside. My father being the war veteran that he is, copes with trauma as he always has with quiet strength, a cigarette, a stiff upper lip, and if need be a stiffer drink. I've never seen so much as a tear form in my father's eye my entire life, not even as we carried my brother's casket to be buried. You could sense his sadness as it hung heavy in the air around him, its weight could be felt by every single person in attendance. But to him, crying was weakness in a man and not an option while he had a wife and surviving son depending on him.
It's the reason I was so shocked to see him sitting on the floor next to his cellphone, sobbing like a child when I let myself into their home.
"Dad?" I say as I make my way toward him, leaving the front door open behind me. I knelt as fast as I could to rest my hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
He wipes his face ashamedly "Hey Alan," he says trying his best to conceal the agony in his voice and shifts his body abruptly to stand.
I keep him down, he doesn't resist.
"Dad, it's ok." I soothe, "What happened?"
Fresh tears well in his eyes as he stares into mine. It's my turn to be strong for him as I fight back tears of my own.
"The doctor called," he whispers. "All of Jimmy's results came back negative."
"What?" I blurt, failing to conceal my surprise.
"There were no drugs in his system. Hair, blood, saliva... nothing." he whimpers, "what... what killed my boy?"
I feel dizzy at this revelation and use my father's shoulder to steady myself as I sit with my back to the wall beside him.
Both of us staring off into nothing.
Both of us now weeping.
We had all been so sure that Jimmy overdosed that we had refused an autopsy. Confident that sending off Jimmy's various bodily fluids would reveal the culprit. The police found no evidence of foul play and they attributed the water and damage to the apartment as a drug fueled hallucination. "He probably thought the place was on fire!" were the exact words used by the officer. Yet here we are in a reality where Jimmy not only did not overdose, but had no trace of narcotics in his system whatsoever.
More time had passed since I found my father on the floor and its passage has done nothing to heal my wounds. I became obsessed with my brother's death, and vowed to find out what it is that killed him not only for my sake but for the sake of my parents who have deteriorated into shells of their former selves without this closure. I found my answer among his possessions which lay in storage boxes in my parents garage.
Jimmy was an avid reader, and owned more books than an underfunded public library. So it was easy for everyone involved who didn't know him to overlook the leather bound journal that was tucked away between Wilde and Poe. Even if it had garnered any amount of attention, it would be short lived. Its pages were seemingly empty.
When we were children we nicknamed my father the Colonel because he took all of his military style bootcamp training and transitioned it over to his parenting. When one of us broke something in the house, or just generally disobeyed him we would be sent to our rooms which he called "the hole" for a pre-set amount of time.
"Come here boys!" He would bellow, his deep voice reverberating throughout the house and my brother and I would drop anything we were doing and scurry to get to him as fast as our little legs could carry us. We would stand up straight before him with our hands at our sides like mini soldiers.
"Which one of you broke your mothers vase?" He'd say to us sternly, my mother cooking in the background trying hard not to smile. My father never hit us so the "little soldier routine" as she called it made her smile through her mock grimace everytime.
"I did sir!" Jimmy would shout.
"Takes a man to own up to his mistakes." my father would say, "but he's got to face the consequences too, don't you think?"
"Yes sir!" He'd say standing up straighter.
"Good. One hour in the hole!" The Colonel replied with my mother behind him smiling blatantly now hoping to at least surpress the giggles.
It wasn't uncommon for Jimmy to take the fall. It's just who he was and would always be. I had broken the vase that evening but Jimmy couldn't bare the thought of someone else being punished if he had the power to prevent it. He gave anything and everything he had to those he loved and as he aged that quality only grew stronger.
Jimmy was a better man than me.
It was during those hours in the hole that we devised a way to communicate with eachother, undetected from the Colonels' watchful eyes. We would pass notes under the door written in lemon juice or milk. Once dry the paper would be clear, the ink unseen. The only way to reveal the message was to apply heat either with a candle, or the burning hot incandescent lightbulb of our bedside lamps, turning the transparent ink brown like magic. As soon as the message was read, the paper was destroyed and if it were ever intercepted before the heating process as they sometimes were our parents would simply command us to pick up after ourselves seeing only a blank page. It was our very own invisible ink. We briefly tried with urine once but neither one of us was willing to touch the paper afterward which defeated the purpose.
Holding Jimmy's leather journal in my hand and leafing through its pages, I smiled at the memory. I took it with me to my father's workbench in the corner of the garage. Reaching to take the propane torch from the top shelf. I twist the nozzle releasing a hiss of propellant, and pull the trigger igniting a blue flame.
He couldn't have. Could he?
I travel the flame carefully over the first page as to not combust it and stare in bewilderment as words do indeed begin to surface.
LET ME GO ALAN.
BURN THE BOOK.
-Love, Jimmy.
With my heart beating out of my chest I don't know whether to laugh or cry as I read Jimmy's message from beyond the grave so I do a bit of both as a swallow hard, composing myself before turning the page.
I PRAY THAT NO ONE IS READING. I HAVE DONE MY BEST TO CONTAIN WHAT I HAVE FOUND SO WHEN I DIE, IT DIES WITH ME.
"What the hell is going on, Jimmy?" I whisper aloud. For the very first time, the thought that the toxicology report might be mistaken emerges in my mind. Who else but a man intoxicated could ever write such things?
The sense of smell is so closely linked to memory that the aroma created by the flame eminating from the paper triggers happy flashbacks of when we used to do this as children.
A stunning contrast to the morbidness of my discovery. How did we end up here?
Another page, another message.
PLEASE, IF ANYONE IS READING THIS ESPECIALLY YOU ALAN WHO IS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS ABOUT THE INVISIBLE WRITING, JUST BURN THE BOOK! PLEASE DO NOT BRING THE POEM BACK INTO THE WORLD.
"Poem?" I think to myself as chills run up my spine.
I LOVE YOU ALAN, TO THE MOON AND BACK. IF YOU ARE READING THIS, HUG MOM AND THE COLONEL. THEY'LL NEED YOU. IM SORRY I COULDN'T TELL YOU. I COULDN'T RISK IT. I DISCOVERED A CURSE. A CURSE THAT ONCE READ BINDS YOU TO IT. IT WONT LET ME DIE ALAN, UNLESS I WRITE IT.
I flip the pages as fast as I can to continue my brother's message.
IT CAN'T BE STOPPED. I'VE TRIED. I'VE DESTROYED EVERYTHING RELATED TO THIS CURSE THAT I'VE FOUND SO THAT IT CAN'T BE SOUGHT OUT. THE INVISIBLE WRITING IS MY LOOPHOLE. A WAY TO END MY SUFFERING BUT PROTECT THE NEXT VICTIMS.
The next fifteen pages consisted of only three words repeated over and over.
DO NOT READ.
My heart breaks at my brother's mental state. If I had known his mind was so fragmented I could have gotten him the help he clearly needed.
The words on the sixteenth page burned darker than the rest. No longer the golden brown of its predecessors but a deep black. No longer bold capital letters but a fine script.
*Each flash of lightning will reveal its form.
*It preys on the cursed in the eye of the storm.
Every page that followed was empty.
I clutched the journal to my chest. "I'm so sorry Jimmy." I mutter "I love you too."
I couldn't bring myself to tell my parents about my discovery, it would do them no good. Upon exiting the garage, I tuck the book into my jacket sleeve and lay it on the couch where I take a seat next to my mother watching her daily dose of home videos.
"Hello sweetheart." she smiles, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
"How you doing mom?" I respond.
"I'm alright I guess I'm just trying to remember happier times." She smiled, "These videos just remind me that I did tell you boys I loved you a million times a day." and points to the screen.
I chuckle because she speaks the truth. At this moment, in the video labeled "Jimmy's 8th birthday" she can be heard from behind the camera asking her two sons her favourite question. "Boys! Boys! How much does mommy love you?"
Jimmy and I sat on the backyard picnic bench surrounded by presents and other children, red as tomatoes and rolling our eyes.
"Mom, not in front of our friends!" We hushed in embarrassment.
"How much my little monkeys?" She squealed with glee.
"To the moon and back" We muttered in defeat.
To add to our horror, the other children surrounding us were ooing and awing in unison.
"See?" my mother says drawing my attention away from the television and back to her.
Both of us share a laugh. It was so nice to see my mother smile again that it helped me to forget Jimmy's journal. So when she asked if I would like to see another video, I agreed without hesitation.
"Do you have my clown birthday party?" I inquire.
"Oh I sure do!" she says jumping up from the couch to retrieve it. "That's my favourite!"
I remember that damn party like it happened yesterday. "The party from hell" Jimmy would dub it later on. My mother thought it would be a tremendous idea to have a clown perform at my 9th birthday, completely unaware that clowns terrified both my brother and I. It was a particularly hot July day. We had already been delirious from too much sun and sugar when Twirly the clown made his entrance holding my candle topped cake. Dancing instead of walking toward us with grand exaggerated kicks of his legs. There's a particularly funny scene in this video where my mother pans the camera from Twirly's theatrics and laughing family members in the background, to where my brother and I sat holding eachother, eyes shut tightly with our faces turned towards the sky crying in fear.
But that's not what played on the tv. The setting hadn't changed. The people in attendance were the same. My younger father before his hair began to grey, stood at the barbeque flipping burgers just as I remembered only he was dripping wet in the rain.
"It wasn't raining." I think to myself confused.
"Look how handsome your father is." I hear my mother say at my side. I can't find my voice to reply so I just nod never taking my eyes off what I'm watching. "Here's the best part!" she claps with joy.
"Bring on the clown!" My father says, but it's difficult to make out over the ever increasing ferocity of the storm. The screen goes white with a flash of lightning as if it struck within meters of where we were standing.
My pulse quickens as I perceive everything in near slow motion. The camera moves from my father to Twirly the clown, his large red shoes splashing in the mud as he danced. The white make up on his face running down onto his orange coloured jumpsuit. The large red painted on smile associated with clowns, sagged into a grimace. His eyes completely blacked out as his drawn on eyebrows did the same.
The happy family members in the background clapping and cheering as the water pooled around their ankles. Heavy winds tossing the womens hair every which way as they applauded, seemingly unaware of the hurricane that raged around them.
Lightning illuminates the scene that has made my family laugh for the better part of two decades. I stare in horror, paralyzed with fear. The camera finally finds its way to young Jimmy and I as we sit holding eachother. However this time only one of us was crying with our eyes shut. Jimmy was staring directly into the camera wide eyed, head vigorously shaking from side to side.
His lips move but I can't make out what he's saying over the ripping thunder. Another flash of lightning and I gasp as a figure materializes behind us out of nothing. Its skin is stretched tight around its tall, skinny body almost translucent in appearance. Its oversized hands resting on both of our shoulders. Its long fingers traveling almost almost the entire length of our torsos.
I can't make out its face through no fault of my own because it doesn't have one to speak of. Only a mouth that makes up the whole bottom portion of its oval head.
Jimmy jerks his shoulder away from its clutches running up to the camera and grabbing it with both hands to bring it up close to his face.
"You let it out!" He shrieks. " Alan, you let it out! He repeats himself until his voice is hoarse. The hands of the figure coming into frame behind him where they rest on his shoulders.
I taste the salt of my tears at the corner of my mouth and recoil violently as I feel a hand on my shoulder.
"It's alright, Alan" my mother says with both her hands held out in front of her trying to be as soothing as possible.
"I'm sorry mom." I respond and start wiping my face with my sleeve until I turn back toward the video. The sun is shining and the clown is dry. His makeup impeccable as the young me reluctantly blows out the candles.
"I miss him too." she says rubbing my back.
"I gotta go." was all I could muster in my dazed condition as I kissed her cheek, picked up my jacket and headed for my car.
I sat in silence on my drive home. Silent enough that the soft swishing of my windshield wipers in the rain were infuriatingly loud. I kept going over what just happened in my head. Overwhelmed, I switched on the radio to the most mindless dance music station I can think of to drown out my thoughts. The vapid radio disk jockey addressing his audience in the typical fashion.
"Yo, yo, yo party people" he begins, "This is MC Mookie Mayes, the flyest DJ on the east coast coming at you live on this beautiful Saturday evening."
He has the desired effect of distracting me at the very least because I roll my eyes and mutter "douchebag" under my breath.
"There's not a cloud in the sky today." he continues, "so I want to see all you beautiful people dancing to my lit beats under the stars tonight!"
I laugh aloud at this. "Hey dj dimwit!" still chuckling, "it's rainin-" my voice trails off as I pull off to the side of the road. I reach to the passengers side seat to retrieve my phone. I open my weather app, warm and clear skies with a zero percent chance of precipitation.
My blood runs cold as thunder rolls in the distance. I look up from my phone to see the silhouette of a figure far in the distance and all I can do is stare as each flash of lightning transports him closer to me.
I floor the gas pedal and speed down the road my tires spinning on the slick surface. My wipers struggling to keep up with the ever falling rain making it difficult to see. "I gotta get out of here." I speak to myself to try and calm my nerves constantly checking my rearview mirror in hopes to catch a glimpse of the figure behind me. But I was mistaken when another flash of light brought the figure directly in front of my car. I swerved to avoid it losing control of my vehicle, spinning out as I try to compensate the steering. When it finally grinds to a halt, I sit gasping for air and listening to my wipers squeaking as they pass over the dry glass. I exit my vehicle and notice the stars in the sky and not a cloud in sight.
When I got to my apartment, I headed straight for my bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. What greets me in the mirror causes me to stare. I've begun to age just as Jimmy had. My cheeks are sullen and the dark rings under my eyes are the worst I'd ever seen.
At first I questioned my sanity. After all, the apparitions left no evidence of their visits. When the storm passed, I was able to carry on with my days. Even my appearance could be reasoned away with illness or the depression caused by the loss of my brother. That luxury would be short lived. As its bond with me grew stronger, its effects became more apparent. Each passing storm would leave its mark. The wet clothes on my body or the welts in the shape of handprints underneath them.
It's been weeks since my first exposure and I can't carry on like this anymore. I hope you can understand, I don't want to die. The figure comes with a higher frequency than ever before. I awaken in the middle of the night to thunder and my apartment is now rife with mold from water damage. I've lost 30 pounds and two teeth since then. It's here with me now both hands resting on my shoulders as I write this. I tried to hold off for as long as I could, but I'm going to give in to what it wants. The largest audience it's ever had in the who knows how many centuries it's roamed the earth. I think in passing it to you I can save myself. I can't be sure but it's worth a try.
Jimmy was selfless. He wrote the curse in a way that no one could ever read it. He gave his life to protect the world.
Please forgive me, I've already told you.
Jimmy was a better man than me.
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Week 3 - The Week that Reading Overtook Everything
I read a lot this week. So much that I didn’t really have time for anything else. (As you’ll shortly see below).
This week is making me realise that beyond just the limited time thing, it is also really challenging to divide my attention. Being deeply immersed in reading makes it difficult for me to pause and watch a Netflix series because I keep thinking of the characters I’ve been reading about. And vice versa. Can I train this mental dexterity? Is this a sign of aging? FUCK I’M GETTING OLD.
Deets below the cut because I think it affects my Tumblr aesthetics with such a long block of text. Hehehe.
Reads This Week
Kim Ji-young, Born 1981 by Cho Nam-ju (5/2021)
This read more like social commentary than an actual novel. I am thankful I don’t face any major gender inequality in Singapore but there are still things I can relate to. Societal norms that dictate the roles of women and men and the struggles that women go through to keep up with these expected roles. Mostly those revolving around being a good mother, wife and daughter-in-law. Then you have the relatively new career-woman role. And so much of these roles are incongruent with each other.
Overall the writing is very sterile. No frills, very factual, bordering on being report-like. And.... very depressing. I still enjoyed it though. Because it talks about a very real issue and it made me thankful that I don’t have these unsurmountable issues to deal with in Singapore. The ending was genius, like a stab right in the heart.
I don’t know if guys would be able to appreciate the point of the book as much as a girl would. Maybe that’s why S.Korea was so divided by the movie. Still messed up though, S.Korea really needs to get its shit together.
Diary of a Murderer: And Other Stories by Kim Young-ha. (6/2021)
This is a collection of 4 short stories. The first is quite long, a novella really. And it is the best in the collection. Tells the tale of a serial killer with Alzheimer's. It’s SO DARK. I legit got chills reading it. Top notch writing. The rest of the stories were a bit strange, as though Kim wrote them while he was high on drugs, in a bad way. Particularly the 4th story. So enjoyment of this book looks like a inverse linear graph, for me at least.
But the strength of the first story makes up for it, so overall I still enjoyed it.
I realise I did 3 Korean writers in a row. Hehehe. Quite impressed to be honest but I think I need to lay off the Korean writers for a bit. Translated reads all have a slight awkwardness to the language which takes a bit of getting use to.
Shades of Grey: The Road to High Saffron by Jasper Fforde (7/2021)
All you idiots who read Fifty Shades of Grey obviously picked up the wrong book. THIS is the Shades of Grey you should be reading!!
Shades of Grey is BRILLIANT. When I finished it, I felt so lost, unsure of what to do with myself and grieving that it ended. It is so funny, so witty, so punny, so clever, so dark but so fun. I wanted to tell everyone about it, make everyone I know read it so we could talk about it. SoG is what you’d get if Hitchhiker’s Guide and 1984 made a baby, the best possible, perfect little baby.
There is a lot of world building in SoG. And you’re not eased into it. Fforde jumps right in and it can get quite confusing with new terms and mentioned-in-passing events and there were parts where I felt like I was missing something, as though Fforde was trying to make some smart pop culture or literary reference but I just didn’t get it because I was stupid. (I do think SoG would benefit from a re-read.)
Beyond the excellent world building, I think Fforde is genius at holding suspense. There is a general sense of foreboding and mystery that hangs in the air. You know something is off, something is wrong but it’s subtle, camouflaged by Fforde’s excellent wit, hidden by bright characters in saturated primary and secondary colours. I wish Fforde would hurry write the sequels, it’s been 10 bloody years, I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO EDDIE AND JANE.
The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith (8/2021)
I am reading this book completely blind. I have no idea what the heck it is about and picked it up solely because a good friend recommended it and I trust her taste.
I’m about 10% in and... Tom Ripley is a fuck boy. He has major problems. -_- Haven’t read enough to make major comment but it’s a good change from SoG. It’s set in our world and I like how I’m focusing on characterisation when reading, and am not having to divide my attention to also understand the world the characters are in. (there’s joy in that too but SoG really took it out of me.)
Good reads this week! Am looking forward to more reads in the coming week!
Writes this Week
I wrote a flash fiction piece this week called She Woke Up Like This and spent a bit of time editing and refining it with feedback from AG. It was so enjoyable! Wrote it in a flash of inspiration and it’s the first piece I’ve written with an actual real life muse. I’m proud of my flash baby and hmmm I hope to have some good news soon. :)
I’ve been meaning to work on an idea I got some months back but just can’t figure out the story. I have the first line though, “My parents are not my parents, of that I’m sure.” I think this will be the piece I chisel out this coming week.
Watches This Week
The Uncanny Counter - Up to episode 14
Argh, hate waiting for new episodes to be released! Was just telling D that we should wait for the last episode to be out next week before finishing the last 2 episodes because I’m sure the penultimate episode will be major cliffhanger-y.
Enjoying it still! Though there’s this one episode where an idiot small boy foils the Counters’ plan by being an idiotic piece of shit and then it hit me THE ACTOR IS THE SAME ONE FROM SWEET HOME. THE IDIOT BOY THAT KEEPS CRYING AND BEING FUCKING IRRITATING.
Argh. If ever I’m in a hodgepodge mix gang that needs to fight for survival, I’m leaving all idiotic Korean children to die first.
I didn’t watch much this week because I was reading a lot. SoG really sucked me in. Am planning to start on Busted (I watched season 1 years ago and IT WAS SO LOLTASTIC) and have heard good things about Lupin. Oh and Flower of Evil solely for Lee Joonki’s beautiful face.
Listens this Week
I haven’t been listening to anything majorly new this week, been just relying on Spotfiy’s Daily Mixes. Also enjoyed the Calming Acoustic playlist on Spotify but that’s because it’s great reading music.
I just found out OCBC has a frickin podcast on Spotify. What. -_-
January is nearly ending!!! Gosh, time really flies. Hope everyone’s January has been good so far!
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The Bachelor Australia 2017 Recap - Episode 1
The Bachelor Australia 2017 Recap S2 E1
I debated whether or not to review this season of The Bachelor. I recapped Georgia Love’s season of The Bachelorette, and I’m pretty sure my boyfriend was the only one who read those reviews, but here we go again.
Full disclosure: Those who read my Bachelorette Season 2 reviews will know that I wasn’t the hugest fan of Matty J. Nothing against him, he just wasn’t my number one pick for Georgia. However, I am super excited to see him (hopefully) find someone as gregarious and upbeat as him. However, if those pesky producers pull another bait and switch on us, I think that’ll be the last straw. (Let’s be honest, just until the ads roll around for the following year). On with the show!
Oh, Osher. How I have missed your liquid caramel voice! And that music! Oh, god I love this show.
I don’t think I can ever watch that clip of Georgia telling Matty J he wasn’t the one and he puts his hands on his knees without feeling a little pang in my heart. And a pang in my soul for being so STUPID TO HAVE NOT REALISED THE BAIT AND SWITCH.
Cue shirtless-on-the-beach-looking-into-the-distance clip! And exciting, heart warming, vomit inducing montage of the season. What? That wasn’t what it was supposed to do?
Now, breaking news, Matty J was on The Project before tonight’s episode informing everyone he has officially dropped the J. Just…Matty. Previous readers might think I was elated with this news, given how much I hated the nickname when he was first introduced. But if I’m honest, Matty just sounds kind of… empty (insert joke here about empty heart and looking for love).
I swear the editors have a little checklist beside their computer of how to open every season of The Bachelor:
- Running on the beach shirtless? Check!
- De-saturated montage of heartbreak? Check!
- But now I’m totally over it and it’s totally fine speech? Check!
OH THAT’S RIGHT. HIS TERRIFYING SISTER. AND THE NEPHEW. THE WEIRD RELATIONSHIP WITH THE NEPHEW.
He’s “cooking” with his mum in the kitchen. By “cooking”, I mean refusing to cut the avocado due to some genetic rash-inducing phobia.
Then, Matty’s mum expresses her generic trepidation that he might get his heart broken again, before saying about last season’s let-down: “It was really hard for me.” Yeah well guess what, Mum? It was PROBABLY REALLY FUCKING HARD FOR MATTY J TOO.
- Slow-mo dressing at dusk? Check!
- City pan? Check!
- Close-up limo shots? Check!
I swear, if you showed me the opening to all of the seasons, you could correlate them scene. by. scene. Which is fine. But… does anyone maybe want to do something different? Throw a different shot in? What if there was just an elephant shooting water from its trunk just shoved in the middle to see if people catch it? That’s what I would do. But hey, I guess if you’ve got a format that’s working, then why change it?
Matty and Osher meet up in front of the mansion. There’s some snooze-inducing filler-talk about love at first conversation. Yawn. A slow burn. Yawn. Even Osher’s trying to jazz it up with his leading questions but tbh, I’m only watching for the arrivals section.
Like I did last year, I’ll break down the arrivals for each lovely lady:
Alix is the first girl. Her description says, “body painter” so we all know not to take her seriously. She’s wearing an orange dress with lots of cut-outs. I think there might be more cut-outs than actual fabric. Sorry, she says the dress is red. So we know she’s a tiiiiiiiny bit colour-blind, but that’s cool. Alix has conveniently placed body paint on her arm to talk about her work and Matty pretends to be interested. As she walks away, Matty says, “She is… pretty.” And I have laughed my first belly laugh of the season. Nup. Not the one.
Tara is next. She’s a nanny. She loves kids. (And if you remember from the montage shoved down our throat 5 minutes earlier, MATTY J ALSO LOVES KIDS. SPECIFICALLY HIS NEPHEW). Tara says, “Both of my sisters are married with children, so I’m the last one.” Ah yes, the perils of being a spinster. (Side note: I think in her talking head we hear someone question “Five hours”. Correct me if I’m wrong, but is this the first time we’ve heard someone speak behind the camera? WHO ARE YOU, MYSTERY VOICE? TELL ME WHAT GOES ON BEHIND THE SCENES! I think it’s pretty telling that I’m more interested in this than Tara). The convo’s a bit awkward if we’re honest. Matty even throws in, “Yeah. It’s a nice house.” Oh, she has tats. And she conveniently forgets which ear she has a smiley face tattooed behind. Never thought I’d be writing that sentence in my life. She’s immediately injected into Cool Girl status, by “accidentally” saying “mate” and “ay” at the end of sentences. Look, she’s one of the boizzzzzzz. She’s got a great dress, but she’s not the one.
Laura is a jewellery designer. She’s wearing a pants suit and seems much too sensible to be on this show. She makes a joke about bringing a cob loaf, which totally would have shot her straight to top three at least. The way to a man’s heart, and all that. There’s a bit of light flirtation about Matty wearing one of her rings. He says it’s appealing that she is hardworking *cough lives in Sydney cough* and is passionate about what she does *cough lives in Sydney cough*. She seems nice enough, but still not the one.
Now, Cobie! I’ve seen Cobie on the ads, and from that ten second clip I’m confident I know everything about her. But seriously, she seems quirky and funny and just like Matty J. (Remember the quiz game he made for Georgia? Cobie would totally do that kind of thing for him). She comes in with a bunch of balloons and sucks the helium and introduces herself. I thought it was sweet and cute, but they’re playing clown music underneath, which would suggest she’s not the one. Cobie reveals that she works in mining as a coal plant operator. She should have brought a piece of coal into the mansion for him! (For those reading overseas, this is a cutting-edge joke about an event that occurred recently with our politicians. It’s very funny and witty. Trust me).
And now we begin the montage, starting with Simone, who is very… white. From the hair to the teeth to the dress. Then we have Elise, Monica, Laura-Ann, Elizabeth, Steph, Sharlene, Stacey, and Sian. And as we all know, montage girls don’t get picked.
Our lovely montage (yawn) ends on Jennifer, who wants to be “dipped”. Jennifer, a question: Is a manufactured “dip” a “real dip”? I mean, it’s not French Onion, is it? (Ha! See, you’ve all missed me).
Cue clown music again, this time for Natalie, who is a midwife (REMEMBER MATTY J LOVES CHILDREN. ESPECIALLY HIS NEPHEW). She’s just wearing glitter body paint. Kidding, but hey, it could be. It’s just a very skin-coloured dress. Natalie admits to stalking Matty on Instagram, and says the word “moist”. Lololol let’s all get on board the internet bandwagon where we all think “moist” is a gross word and oh look how relevant she’s being, and dorky, and sweet. Sigh. And then, just when I think all hope is lost for Natalie, she reveals she has dated “a woman”. She’s BI! IS THIS THE FIRST NON-HETERO BACHELOR CONTESTANT?! THIS IS INCREDIBLE. But then she says she hopes Matty can, “Turn me straight again.” Um, I’m not 100% sure it works like that, Nat. And I’m also not sure if this comment is going to help the disgusting political opinion that you can just change your sexuality on a whim. I wish I thought better of the producers than to include this, but I don’t. And then, in case things couldn’t get any worse, SHE SNIFFS HER FINGERS AFTER MEETING MATTY J. SHE SAYS THEY SMELL LIKE HIM. WHAT RATING IS THIS SHOW FOR CHRIST’S SAKE?! (Also, question: Are we sure this isn’t just Georgia Love in a wig?).
Now for the contrived moment we saw in twenty thousand ads, a police car comes in. From the ads I assumed she was just being driven in and I completely rolled me eyes, but this… this I can get on board with! SHE’S DRIVING HERSELF! IN A COP CAR! There’s a brief, unnecessary ad break before Constable Packston introduces herself. She entered with a handshake and in a cop car and THIS. WOMAN. MEANS. BUSINESS. Her first name is Michelle, and Matty accidentally (?) admits he’s been in the back of a police car, because… he peed in a bush when he was 18. Could this show be any more PG13 if it tried? Michelle seems much too sensible for this show, but they have good banter. Until Matty asks her to “mock arrest” him, in some sort of sex foreplay ritual. Matty says, “You’re quite strong for a…” (Don’t say woman, don’t say woman, don’t say woman…) “…Someone with a petite frame.” Nice work Matty! She seems great. I would say that the gag might prevent you from winning, but Lee came in with a frickin donkey, so all bets are off.
Belinda arrives already in a wedding dress, just in case Matty decides to call it all off on the first night. Her description says “Love Coach”, and I’m out. Belinda puts her hand over Matty’s heart while he does the same to her in some kind of trust exercise which also seems like a foreplay ritual. She’s also got an egg timer. Urgh, this is so awkward. Let’s just move right on.
To…Florence. She’s from Holland. She is also wearing orange… red. WHY ARE THESE COLOURS SO SIMILAR?! She’s brought something from Holland. It’s… clogs! For... traditional reasons! Right. Yes, Matty J will keep those and treasure them forever.
Next there are feet. Bare feet but she’s walking on her tippy toes, which doesn’t make sense. Oh, wait. She’s ribbon dancing. Jesus. Well, props to amping up the parade aspects of the introductions. And then, this woman, whose name is apparently Akoulina, actually says, “I wrap myself up and I present myself as a present to you. Will you accept me?” This is my face right now: :| You can guess what my answer would have been to her question.
But all of this nonsense leads us seamlessly into… Lisa. Who has romantic music, and is in a JUMPSUIT. And she looks FIERCE! Even Matty J comments on it. She’s very tall, and apparently that’s her defining feature. (Question: Why do we still use feet for our heights in Australia? We use the metric system for everything else). Matty is smitten. Lisa also reveals that she played competitive tennis for twelve years, which is cool. No joke there, that just really is cool. She seems nice, and he seems to like her. Matty’s talking head says, “She took my breath away.” Calm down, Matty! I thought you were open to a slow burn?!
Oh, no. Poor Leah has made a mistake and worn her lingerie tonight. Nice move, producers. I’m guessing the villain due to the over-sexualisation and the black dress? She’s now messing up his hair. (Side note: Is Mrs Osher still the hair stylist on this show? I would be so pissed if I was her. How dare Leah ruin that perfect quiff!). She also makes him spin twice, which should be an effort in reversing the sexism on this show, but actually comes across kind of creepy and awkward. She literally tells him she wants him to f her right there. Well, she may as well have.
Alright, first shot in the house! Leah makes an entrance. Oh boy does she make an entrance. Cobie stops her and introduces herself. Nice, Cobie.
Apparently Leah is ignoring everyone. (Did she?) Oh yep, apparently she did. All I see is her greeting everyone. Right. Villain. Tara does a little bit of slut-shaming here but I’m guessing we’re all ok with it because Leah is our villain lololol. Someone (honestly, I have no idea who anyone is. It’s the first night) says Leah is wearing her dress, but in black. OH YEAH. THEY’RE IN THE SAME DRESS. Do you think this was a last-minute re-write when costuming figured it out? *Loud whisper* PSSST, JUST MAKE IT INTO A PLOT POINT. THEY’LL NEVER KNOW THE DIFFERENCE.
Then we have some contrived dramahhhh with the girls. Something happens but it’s boring and then OSHER WALKS IN! OSHERRRRRR! Save me from this boredom! He introduces them to the rose system, just in case any of them are aliens and have no idea how this show works. Matty gives them all a pep talk, because he totes knows how they’re feeling. (REMEMBER, HE’S BEEN ON THE SHOW BEFORE).
Osher interrupts Matty because he totally forgot to mention this really important thing before. Silly Osher! This year, they have the Secret Garden, which in this context (as far as I know) isn’t a euphemism or a piece of classic literature, but a literal secret garden where they can have uninterrupted one-on-one time. What? No white rose? What a let-down…
The first girl Matty wants to speak to is Laura, the jewellery designer. The girls make a comment that she’s similar to Georgia. Really? I didn’t pick it. I mean, if we’re going to do a parallel, make it with Natalie. I swear it’s just Georgia in a wig!
Then, the power cuts out. This is apparently intentional and not due to the fact that EVERY DAMN LIGHT IN THE MANSION IS TURNED ON. DID EARTH HOUR TEACH YOU NOTHING, PEOPLE?!
And… there’s a fire dancer, because at this point, of course there is. There’s a brief ad break as the girls predictably freak out and keep asking if it’s an intruder. GUYS. IT CAN’T BE AN INTRUDER ON THE FIRST NIGHT. BY THAT LOGIC, YOU’RE ALL INTRUDERS!
Akoulina says the new girl was “Walking up to Matty and saying, ‘Look at me! Look at me!’”. Says the girl who literally did a ribbon dance.
So this exotic fire twirler’s name is Elora. She’s from Tahiti. So… she’s the reason we’re exempt from the white-washing complaint this year? Side note: I don’t really understand why the girls hold her coming in later as her fault. She doesn’t construct this show.
Elora actually seems nice, and Matty J says he feels a spark. THE SLOW BURN, MATTY. REMEMBER THE SLOW BURN. Leah (our lingerie-clad villain) makes a comment about Elora coming in half dressed, and the editors and producers don’t let me down and cut to a clip of Leah in her lingerie-dress. THIS IS THE SASS I’M HERE FOR.
Elora is described as “Sex on Legs” as she walks to steal Matty J from talking to…someone. Again, I have no idea who anyone is yet.
Akoulina, not one to be beaten with theatrics, does a ribbon twirl routine for the ladies to show how much better she is than Elora. Maybe she’s trying to seduce the girls? I’m at a loss to find any other reason for her behaviour.
Matty J, speaking alone with Elora, is interrupted by Meanie McMean Pants. Matty, God bless his soul, calmly offers for her to take a seat alongside them, but unfortunately Meanie gets away with it. Man, I want to see what’s been cut out of this section. McMean Pants says, “You’re going to see plenty of crazy”, referring to the other girls in the house. Matty, not skipping a beat, asks, “Is much of it coming from yourself?” My second belly laugh ensues.
Because you’re definitely wondering, here’s what I would do if I was the Bachelor: I’d write out a list of names of all the people, and divide up the time of the cocktail party with the number of people. I would then allocate a time to each individual and provide everyone with a watch. I would tell the people that I will come to them to collect them for their allotted 15 minute chat. Obviously I get why this isn’t the way they do it, and that they need the dramahhh, but honestly, how hard is a bit of organisation people?!
Anyway, in a weird montage that the intern definitely got to work on that week, we see that all the girls love Natalie the finger-sniffer. Then she does something with her leg, and for some reason this is a revelation. Quickly becoming our Villain Number Two, Jennifer asks, “What kind of woman does that? It’s grubby and dirty. I don’t act like that, because I’m a ladyyyyyyyyyy.” And I didn’t even have to exaggerate that last word, how handy. Leah, our villain number one, questions if anyone would even date Natalie. Well, it doesn’t look like you have a lot of offers either, mate. You’re on a DATING SHOW for Christ’s sake. Gosh women can be horrible to each other.
So I looked away for a second and apparently someone said someone else’s dress was awful and this is apparently a cause for tears and dramahhh. Sorry, “putrid”. Of course, Villain Number Two, Jennifer, is involved. The blonde lady, who I’m pretty sure is named Elizabeth, explains that they was mud on Jennifer’s dress and that’s why she said it was putrid. All credit to her, Natalie does a great impression of the fight, using blah blah blahs.
Jennifer says that she doesn’t want drama because she’s not a “drama-filled person”. THIRD BELLY LAUGH. This fight couldn’t be more boring if they tried. And they are trying, very hard. A fight over a dress? Righto. We must be scraping the bottom of the barrel for this season. Jennifer ironically says Elizabeth is this year’s Keira. HOW DARE YOU STAND WHERE SHE STOOD, PEASANT! And this solidifies Jen as Villain Number 2.
Leah (Villain Number 1. Phew, this is so exhausting) says she wants to show Matty her secret garden. AGAIN, WHAT RATING IS THIS SHOW?!
But then Matty comes from nowhere and invites Lisa to The Secret Garden. I know I’ve already said it, but she is ROCKING that jumpsuit. He says that she stood out on the red carpet, and he’s totally lost in her eyes. To be honest, Lisa seems a bit too cool for this. Matty says he can imagine her in her track pants on the couch chilling out, and I totally agree. Right, we have a front-runner.
Next, Jen has some one on one time with Matty. Michelle (our badass Police Officer) says she and Jen are different people, and I’m definitely on Michelle’s side. Don’t try to mess with a cop. She’ll win every time.
MATTY HAS GRABBED THE FIRST ROSE. I REPEAT: THE ROSE HAS BEEN GOTTENED. AND HE GIVES IT TO MICHELLE! MICHELLE WAS JUST SAYING SHE HASN’T SPOKEN TO HIM YET. OMG MICHELLE! YAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSS! So happy for her. She seems great. Another front-runner.
They’re all freaking out about the rose ceremony, as if they didn’t expect one to happen. There’s lots of scripted bitchiness from our Villain Number 1, Leah. I swear, they’re not even trying to make it sound like natural dialogue anymore. She says there’s lots of filler, and I actually agree with her. Yes, Leah. THERE IS A LOT OF FILLER. (Imagine this previous line said slowly while staring directly with wide eyes at Leah).
Oh, wow. We return from the ad break straight to the rose ceremony. Has anyone ever noticed that there is never a conclusion to the cocktail party? I assume it’s just because they film for hours and ply them with alcohol to get content and then just figure out how they’ll edit it later, but still. They could at least try to bring the storylines to some kind of conclusion before just cutting away.
Osher introduces… Matty. See, it still feels empty. Two are going home tonight, so I’m guessing two montage girls? Let’s place bets. Hmmm let’s go with Monica and Akoulina.
Dammit Akoulina got picked. Jennifer gets picked which makes sense because she’s still in disguise with Matty as Classy Dipping Girl.
The final three are Elizabeth, Monica, and Stacey. No, I don’t know who these people are either.
Elizabeth hopes that what happened with Jen didn’t cloud Matty’s judgement of her. Um, babe, I don’t think he was even there, was he? I don’t think he gives a shit.
But Elizabeth gets picked and crisis is averted. Monica and Stacey are going home. Monica’s goodbye is quite sad. She says there are some big personalities in the house, which she can’t compete with. I actually feel kind of bad for her. But unfortunately, you can’t stand out on this show without a big personality.
Next Episode: Are they swimming naked? And… Cheerleading. Just in case the casual misogyny was too subtle.
First Episode Picks: Lisa and Michelle.
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