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bookshelf-in-progress · 2 years

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A Day Late: A Beauty and the Beast Retelling

Beatrice scrambled through the rose garden, tripping over the deep gold skirts she'd worn specifically to look nice for her host. Where was Beast? He wasn't in the library, dining room, conservatory, aviary, music room, ballroom, study, parlor, billiard room, or any of the castle towers. She'd thought she'd find him brooding in a melancholy corner, awaiting her return, but she was running out of melancholy corners and beginning to get frustrated. Where could an eight-foot-tall dog-tiger-monkey man possibly hide?

The garden had changed. The usual balmy summer had become oppressively hot and humid. The roses drooped. The damp air clung to Beatrice's skin and red curls escaped her hairpins and frizzed around her face. Where were the sparkling sunshowers that kept the gardens moist? Where were the playful breezes that kept the air fresh and cool? Beatrice hadn't seen so much as a fluttering curtain to indicate the presence of an invisible servant. Everything was silent. Still. Dead.

Half-mad with anxiety, she raced down cobbled paths and across the wide lawns where she and her Beast had played so many games of croquet. Past fountains where they'd splashed each other in ferocious water battles. She trampled beds of pansies and tore holes in hedges and prayed the invisible gardener would forgive her. If Beast meant to get revenge for her delay in returning, he was doing an excellent job of it, but when--yes, when--she found him, they would have words about how a single day of waiting did not justify throwing your guest into a blind panic.

She checked every bench in the garden, navigated the entire hedge maze, and even took a raft to check the bottom of the lily pond. When she came ashore, she leapt a short hedge and found herself at the far end of the south lawn, where the lush grass gave way to rougher scrub as the palace grounds approached the surrounding woods. A creek babbled over stones, separating forest from palace, and not far from its bank, Beatrice saw a lump of tawny-striped fur covered in a familiar blue cloak.

Beatrice raced to Beast's side and found him barely conscious. His fur was dull, his eyes were glassy, and he panted in the heat. The sharp teeth sticking out of his pointed muzzle were as dry as his black nose.

Beatrice struggled to catch her breath, then gasped, "Beast! What happened?"

Beast lay curled up on his right side, legs bent to his chest like a newborn babe, while he clutched his long tail in one monkey-like hand. Softly, he said, "You broke your promise."

How could he be so maddening? "It was one extra day! I haven't seen my family in nearly two years! I thought you could manage without falling into a melancholic decline!"

Beast squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw against some internal pain. "I told you. Three days only. Or I waste away and die."

"I thought it was a metaphor! You know how dramatic you get!"

He shook his head. "Rules of this place."

Beatrice's stomach sank. Though the sun shone hot as ever, it seemed to Beatrice as though a cloud had blocked all the light. She didn't...he couldn't...

Had she killed him for one extra day at home?

She clenched her jaw to hold back tears, furious that she was even considering wasting time by crying.

Beatrice pulled off the Beast's cloak, revealing that he was clad in the loose white shirt and rough brown trousers he typically wore in the gardens. She knelt beside him and snarled, "You can tell whoever runs this place, from me, that I am sick to death of their rules." She started loosening the shirt's laces, grinding out words with each piece of the string she yanked from the bindings. "Life imprisonment because my father stole a rose. Required daily marriage proposals. No dessert unless you eat the vegetables first. And now this!" She pulled out the entire string and threw it aside in a huff. "And worst of all, you follow those rules. You call yourself a beast, but you're just a fluffy little chicken."

Beast grimaced, and sounded apologetic as he rasped, "Not like...those rules. Law...like gravity."

Oh, was he really going to lecture over semantics when he was dying? "And that one's breakable! Haven't you heard? There are men in the south who fly in balloons. You can break any rule you want if you've got enough gumption." She grasped his muzzle in her hands and turned his head so he met her eyes. "Do you understand? You are not going to die on me."

Even though he could barely hold open his eyes, a corner of his wide mouth twitched upward. Good. He had enough life in him to laugh at her. "I'll try."

"You will do more than try." She stood and looked around wildly, desperate for something that could help. Where were those servants?

"You're just overheated," she said, willing it to be true. "Nothing to do with me. You're the one who came out here covered in fur in this eternal July."

Water. She needed water. She rushed to the creek and cupped what she could in her hands. She brought it back to him and he lapped at the scant film of droplets that she managed to hold through her mad flight. It barely dampened the tip of his tongue, yet Beatrice rushed back to the creek again, again, again, not knowing what else to do and thinking that any water was better than leaving him here to fetch other tools. Knowing him, he'd die the minute she walked away.

She babbled as she worked. He couldn't die so long as she kept him distracted, right? "It was one extra day. I didn't think you'd mind. My eldest sister has a new baby. The smiling-est thing you've ever seen. Four months old. I nearly stuck her in my bag and brought her with me. I couldn't leave so soon when there were babies."

Beast lapped weakly at the water in her hands, his eyes shut, as if merely moving his tongue was exhausting.

"My father begged me to stay," she said, desperate for him to understand. "He's gotten so old since I last saw him. I was afraid he'd be dead before I got leave for another visit."

Now Beast lay dying, and all she could do was bring sips of water. There had to be a better way to help him.

Her eyes fell on the cloak and inspiration struck. She gathered it up in deep blue folds, carried it to the bank of the stream and dunked it beneath the water. She fumbled it, dripping, into a ball against her chest, then staggered back to where Beast lay and squeezed as much water as she could over his body.

That woke him up. All his limbs jolted and his eyes opened wide.

"Good," she said with triumph, mercilessly squeezing more water from the saturated cloak. "You wake up and pull yourself together."

She squeezed the last of the water onto his tongue, then carried the cloak back to the river, shouting back to him, "You're the only dog-tiger-monkey-man thing in existence, you know. If you die, you'll be responsible for the extinction of an entire race, and you don't want that on your conscience, do you?"

She dunked the cloak back in the stream, shivering from more than the cold shock of the water. I don't want it on mine.

What if this didn't work? What if he died? Would she be set free? Could she even call such a life freedom? What would her life be without his morning grumbling and his terrible jokes? Who would listen to her ramble about the books she never finished? Or try the bread recipes she burned? How could her life have any joy, without him there to ramble through the gardens with her, or trounce her at billiards, or put up new curtains in her room, or talk about...well, everything, in a way she could with no one else?

It didn't matter because he wouldn't die. She couldn't let him.

But there were things she had to tell him.

She hefted the water-soaked cloth, struggling to gather it in her arms. "You know what I decided, in that extra day at home? It wasn't home anymore. Oh, it's nice. My family's there. Good memories. But I was homesick that fourth day. For the palace. For you." She gathered a heavy fold of the cloak against her chest while another one slipped from her grasp. "It seems that I love you. And the very next time you propose, I plan to marry you."

If the situation hadn't been so desperate, Beatrice would have looked back to see Beast's reaction. After she’d refused him five-hundred and twenty-eight times, her acceptance would be a shock. It had shocked her, that night at home, to realize how much she missed the nightly proposals, and how slim her reasons for refusal were getting.

Behind her, Beast said weakly. "You'll...marry me?"

The cloak slipped from Beatrice's arms, and she cursed under her breath. "Yes, you overgrown throw rug, but first you have to live long enough to do it."

That was unfair. He deserved an explanation. She reached under the water for the cloak, but the current pulled bits of it just beyond her grasp. "You’re as much a prisoner here as I am, so I can’t blame you for that anymore. Your face is kind of endearing, now that I’m used to it. And marriage doesn’t seem so terrible now, not if it’s with you. You’re much smarter and kinder and more fun than any of the human-looking men I know. And you’re much more patient with my temper and my tongue.”

"Beatrice."

Beast's voice, filled with awe, sounded stronger. The dousing must have done him good.

She sprawled across the bank and flailed an arm beneath the water, catching a corner of the cloak. "You’re too good of a man inside to really be a beast. You said once you had human parents, didn't you?"

"Beatrice."

The cloak slipped away again. She stuck her arm in the current, almost up to the shoulder, and snapped, "Will you quit distracting me?"

At last, she snagged one edge in her left hand and continued, "Not that I mind if you naturally look like that. You can’t help the way you were born. But have you ever considered that it could be an enchantment? Maybe we could find a way to break it, after we’re married.”

"Beatrice, look at me."

Beatrice was offended at the hint of laughter in Beast's voice. Enchantment wasn't a completely ridiculous idea, not in a place like this.

"I know what you look like," she snapped. She rose to her knees and pulled the wet cloak halfway out of the water. "Doesn't mean you always looked like that. Maybe you're enchanted and just forgot about it."

A heavy hand gripped her shoulder. A human hand. A male hand.

Beatrice shrieked and pushed the hand away, scrambling backward along the bank like a crab. A tall, olive-skinned, dark-haired man stood over her, grinning like a madman.

Beatrice glanced wildly around. How had he gotten here? Had he come from the forest? He looked rough enough, wearing nothing but a long white nightshirt. Someone's escaped lunatic relative? Or maybe he was the true master of this place, the one who'd made all those maddening rules.

She looked to Beast for answers--except that Beast was nowhere in sight. No sign of him save the matted grass where he'd been laying a minute ago. Beast had been weak. Vulnerable. Had this stranger finished him off? Perhaps she’d run out of time, and the rules of this place had dissolved what was left of him.

She reached further up the bank and seized a fallen branch with a thick shaft and a spray of branching twigs. Madman or mad fairy, she wouldn't go down without a fight. She hefted her weapon, pitiful as it was, with all the menace she could muster in her small form. "Stay back!"

The stranger backed away, hands held protectively before him, but his eyes sparkled with laughter. "Beatrice, don't you recognize me?"

There was something familiar in his voice, which might explain how he knew her name. Cautiously, she rose, the branch still held protectively before her, to examine him more closely. Recognition flashed like a lightning bolt. "The narcissist!"

The stranger gaped. "Excuse me?"

Beatrice examined the features. She was right. She was sure of it. She'd know those green eyes and sharp cheekbones anywhere. The clothes were different and the hair was longer, but the face was identical. "The man with all the portraits!"

How she and Beast had laughed over those portraits, which seemed to haunt every corner of the palace, far outnumbering any other faces in the artwork. The sitter could be seen wearing military dress in the foyer, riding clothes in the library, and evening dress in the ballroom. He had posed in summer, winter, and spring, and had been painted with hunting dogs in autumn. A child version of him had even posed, sulking, next to a standing globe in a portrait hung in a back hallway. She had privately dubbed the subject a narcissist–a man with so many portraits was far too in love with his own face.

Now the vast array of portraits made sense. He was the master of the castle, maker of the magical rules, come to deal with her now that Beast was...no, he wasn't dead.

She brandished the branch again. "What did you do with Beast?"

"Nothing. You--"

She whacked him with the branch. "I did not kill him!"

He pushed the twigs out of his face and backed away. "Beatrice, my love, please!"

She whacked him in the stomach for that one. "I am not your love."

"Then why," he gasped, doubled over and wheezing, "did you just agree to marry me?"

Beatrice froze. What did he mean? Had he overheard...?

She was missing something here.

She discarded her theories and looked at the evidence afresh. Beast dying. Beast missing. Portrait man here. Wearing shirt a lot like Beast's that was far too big for him. Talking, now that she thought of it, in a voice remarkably similar to her Beast’s.

She threw the branch aside. "I am the biggest idiot alive!"

The man caught his breath and stood upright, grinning ear to ear. Even his smile looked a bit like Beast's. "I'd agree," he said, in Beast's velvet, teasing tones, "except that I'm still living."

Beatrice leaped toward him, flung her arms around his neck, and buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled of sweat and mud and rotting fur. She’d never smelled anything sweeter. "I told you that you were enchanted."

Beatrice sat with her Beast on the riverbank as the sun sank toward the horizon. The enchanted high summer had given way to the mellow autumn of the outside world. A castle full of servants, now visible, roamed the grounds behind them, greeting each other with joy as they celebrated the end of the enchantment, but Beatrice had yet to move from the river’s edge. She had too much to discuss with her prince.

Her prince. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around it. His Royal Highness Prince Matteo Adriano Edmondo Nicolo, twelfth son of King Inocenzo of Bellarosa, had rejected a fairy’s marriage proposal, and consequently found himself cursed into the form of a beast until a woman accepted his hand in marriage.

“Was that all it took?” Beatrice exclaimed. “You could have told me sooner!”

Matteo laughed. “It wouldn’t have been much of a curse if I could have told you.”

“You could have hinted!”

“Daily marriage proposals weren’t hint enough?”

She laughed, acknowledging his point. “What a pair we make–a girl too dense to accept a prince’s proposal and a prince obnoxiously in love with his own beautiful face.”

Matteo raised one of his perfect dark brows. “Why do you insist I’m vain?”

“Your royal highness, no one needs that many portraits of himself.”

He threw his hands up in feigned distress. “I’m royal! My mother commissioned them!”

“You didn’t need to display them so ostentatiously.”

“You think I had a choice?” His manner suddenly became subdued. “The fae arranged that. Made it impossible to forget what I’d lost.”

Beatrice took his human hand in hers. “I’m sorry I delayed so long.”

He pulled her into an embrace. “I’d say you were right on time.”

Her stomach twisted with guilt. She hadn’t been on time.

She rested her head on his shoulder, still barely able to believe he was alive and well. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the mental image of his dying beastly form. “What if I hadn’t accepted?” she asked. “Would you truly have died?”

She felt the rumble of his answer in her own chest. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Under the terms of the curse, I would remain a beast until you accepted my hand in marriage, or until you left and doomed me to death.”

She looked up and gaped at him in amazement. “And yet you let me leave.”

“I wouldn’t die immediately,” Matteo said, “and I couldn’t deny you the chance for happiness. So long as you returned before three days were over, neither of us would come to harm.”

Despite the risk to himself, he had taken the chance. He had trusted her.

And she’d returned after four days.

“I nearly killed you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

“I still should have come back when I promised.”

He ran his thumb along her face. “Under the circumstances,” he said with a laugh. “I think I can forgive you for being a single day late.”

She put her hands and his shoulders and met his gaze straight-on. “You really are far too forgiving.”

“You saved me from my curse! I’d be worse than a beast if I refused to forgive you after that.”

He’d left her such an easy opening. She couldn’t resist the chance to tease him. “You’re worse than a beast now, your highness. You’re not nearly so lovable without the tail."

He became strangely subdued at that.

“Beatrice,” he said at last. “Do you truly wish to marry me?”

A natural question, perhaps, given her number of refusals. But she really wished he’d quit asking. "Of course I do. It broke your curse. What more proof do you need?"

He looked down, suddenly shy and earnest as a schoolboy. "Do you still wish it? You agreed to marry a beast, not a prince with too many portraits."

Beatrice laughed at that. She couldn’t help it. “How shallow do you think I am? If I agreed to marry you as a beast, I'm certainly not going to refuse you just because you have a little less fur."

His face eased. She was glad. She'd seen him in enough distress today.

Another thought struck her. "Did you mean it? Do you really wish to marry me, or did you just propose to get your pretty face back?"

Matteo threw back his head and laughed. "Beatrice, darling, I've loved you since the day you tied a knot in my tail for defeating you at billiards.”

Beatrice grinned, the last of her doubts flying away. "Then it’s settled. I'll marry you, you'll marry me, we both love each other. Does that sound right?"

Matteo pulled her in for a kiss. "That sounds like an excellent plan."

When they pulled apart, a cool wind came off of the river, and Beatrice shivered.

"I wish I had a cloak to offer you, but someone threw mine in the creek," Matteo said.

"You're terrible!" Beatrice said, but she accepted his arm and his escort back toward the palace.

As they crossed the south lawn, Beatrice said, "You know, I'll have to go back to my father's soon. Someone has to tell my family about the wedding."

Matteo nodded. "Of course. Under one condition."

She pulled away and looked up at him in exaggerated disgust. "More rules? I thought we were done with all that."

He waved a hand to dismiss her protests. "I think you'll find these conditions acceptable." He numbered his points on his fingers. "You may return if I can accompany you. And this time, you can stay as long as you like."

"That's two conditions."

"Do you object?"

Beatrice took his arm and continued walking toward the lighted palace. It was good to be home. "Not at all."

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #beauty and the beast #i finally figured out how to retell this fairy tale in a way that works for me #namely: skip over all the mystery-that's-not-really-a-mystery and just give us the ending #and make it a comedy #all my favorite beauties are the outspoken and loud ones #and beatrice came barging in an demanded that i tell this story #(and she refused to be named anything else so i'm sorry about the two very similar names)#i attempted to address some of my usual annoyances with beauty and the beast takes and with romances #not sure if i succeeded #especially since they got a bit too sappy at the end #but i couldn't figure out how to wrap this up and just kind of kept spinning off banter until i hit something semi-workable #so anyway i hope you like it #i found it fun anyway #oh by the way if you imagine thylacine beast you won't be terribly far off #tiger-dog kind of gives off that vibe but they don't know what a thylacine is #of course it's twisted with the monkey mixed in there #and there are prob some more tigery features that go beyond the coloring #i don't want to define it in too much detail i'm just sick of all beasts being some mix of bear-wolf-lion #and hope this comes off as semi-different

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oswlld · 28 days

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oswlld's monthly wrap up: april

note: i am trying something a bit different this year, so bear with me as i figure out how i want to format this. i wanted to spend more time sharing what i consume, beyond what i rb, and put my thoughts in one place. these posts are okay to rb

This Is How You Lose the Time War, Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone [started 04/04, finished 04/09] *drags my hands down my face until the end of time* I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. I want to meet you in every place I ever loved. I WANT TO MEET YOU!!!! IN EVERY PLACE I EVER LOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!! 4.75⭐️ in storygraph. — Hamnet, Maggie O’Farrell [started 04/12, in prog] I am about 100 pages in and still not sure if I want to keep going or DNF it. idk what isn’t sticking because the writing is beautiful and the pacing is great. And I do care about the characters, I really do. I love the way the author borrows from future grief, it’s what I am enjoying most about this read so far. Maybe I’ll give it 50 more pages and see if it finally sticks.

23.5 Degrees, GMMTV [started: 03/08, ongoing] As mentioned, I am caught up on eps 3-8. I’ll likely not be able to watch it live in may but I will be keeping up with the series til the end. It’s so lighthearted and charming! Not sure how they managed this, but I am constantly surprised by the character group dynamics. It’s def due to the great chemistry everyone has with literally everyone. I need NEED to discuss the score of this show because it’s IMMACULATE. The celestial themes, from the props all the way down to the music, is so rich. I’m so excited to see how this story unravels. — Devil’s Plan [started: 04/23, ongoing] This is a bestie pick, a show my best friend chose to have us watch on our facetime calls. We are 1.5 eps in and it’s a grower. The first game is hella complex and we’re slowly picking up on what’s happening. The people on this show are incredibly intelligent, so I feel like I have to work extra hard to keep up. It does feel rewarding, I’m hooked.

Oppenheimer, Peacock [watched on 04/05] I am a self-proclaimed Nolan girlie, I’ll admit it. I do enjoy his work and the many ways he translates time into film. When I wrote this, it had been a few days since I watched it and I still think abt the little moments that blew me away. Moments like the accentuated dust particles, how the coloring of the movie can be an unreliable narrator, and the utilization of a crowded hall stomping their feet to create tension. The last eight minutes still haunts me. I find more value in the technical side of film, but I will give credit when credit is due: every award Cillian Murphy got this season was so well earned. He carried all three hours of that film with such powerful quietude. And lastly, my heart now belongs to Jennifer Lame. Upon seeing her accept the award for Best Film Editing for Oppenheimer, I have come to learn that she also edited Tenet. HER MIND!!! She has such a bright future ahead of her, to be up there with the minds of Thelma Schoonmaker and Anne V Coates. — Yellow Door: ’90s Lo-Fi Film Club [watched on 04/14] This film needs to be studied in film school. It’s incredibly meta in some ways, having renown directors be the subjects, talking about their passion for film. The production being so stylized and the editing feels very reminiscent of Our Beloved Summer, with the way the found footage and the aspect ratios are intertwined with current day quality shots. This film will hit everyone right in the millennial. A true surprise for me is discovering that Bong Joon Ho and I are more alike that I had originally thought. The way he speaks in casual conversation and his story of setting strict rules for their film collection had me hollering because SAME. The most jessi thing he recounted was how all the VHS tapes were labelled. Yellow Door is somehow the opposite of the "doesn’t take itself too seriously" mentality; it’s actually so great that they made the film like that. By fully immersing us with gorgeous cinematography, cheeky editing sequences, and lush music to tug at your heartstrings, it bewitches you into loving film as much as they did. And still do.

Cowboy Carter, Beyoncé [relisten] I’ve given this several good cycles to confirm my first impressions: it’s def one of her most cohesive albums to date and still stands as a spectacular album. This passion project of hers takes such great care and attention to the voices she amplifies. I can feel the hunger, the innate need for her to make this album. If you haven’t heard how this album came to be, I insist you take the time to educate yourselves. It makes the listening experience so much more empowering. Good for her… GOOD. FOR. HER!! Current favs: Ameriican Requiem, 16 Carriages, Bodyguard, Jolene, Spaghettii, Ya Ya, Desert Eagle, II Hands II Heaven, and Sweet/Honey/Buckin’. — Older, Lizzy McAlpine [first time listening] Coming off the heels of my Five Seconds Flat hyperfixation last year, I haphazardly went into Older hoping its a natural progression in production value. I was shocked that it turned out to be a completely different sound. I soon learned that she actually didn’t really like how Five Seconds Flat was produced because it didn’t feel true to her as an artist. Tbh I was feeling a little lost after the first listen but after digesting this new info, I went back into it and appreciated it a lot more. In fact, the third listen was when I realized that it gave off the same energy as Laufey. I’m excited to listen to it again soon. — Stick Season: Forever, Noah Kahan [first time listening] Having stumbled on all the collabs on Alexa earlier this year, Forever was the only new song for me from his latest release. I’m OBSESSED with this song!!!! The way his voice carries the entire weight of every hurt inside me and just takes it away. Something healed in me. I play it in the car every time I leave the house. I cry in the car every time I leave the house. — The Tortured Poets Department, Taylor Swift [first time listening, standard vinyl ed.] I am going to get this out of the way and say that this album is great. Just great. I understand more than ever why she felt the need to make this album. Having only listened to the standard version a couple times and the anthology twice through, I sit here in this kind of… discomfort. And I’m kind of okay with that feeling. But… it pains me that I can’t share this album with some people in my life and it’s largely due to how she depicts her struggles with people with mental illness/addiction. It’s one, if not the biggest, strike I have against this album and by extension, her. Songs cycling in my head: Down Bad, So Long London, Guilty as Sin?, Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?, loml, imgonnagetyouback, Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus, How Did It End?, I Look in People’s Windows, The Prophecy, Peter, and The Manuscript.

EXPO Chicago [attended 04/13] Yes, I am doxxing myself a bit if you didn’t already know. During college, I used to attend EXPO yearly and occasionally went back long after I finished school. I haven’t attended in a long time, so I made it my goal to attend this year. And I had a blast! My mother tagged along and she’s not one to attend shows like this or art museums in general. It was a beautiful day trip to the city and it was nice to have her company. She mostly trailed behind and took pics of me as I floated around the exhibition hall. I have 50+ artists I tracked on my phone to actively research in my spare time. I sat in on one of the panel talks (ON COLOR), discussing color theory in today’s bipoc landscape. I took so much away from that conversation, it was very charged. I'm kinda obsessed with Alteronce Gumby, I need to do an artist deepdive on his work. — Coachella [watched from 04/12 to 04/14] I work for a big tech company and one of the biggest events to be on standby for is Coachella. I had to be on call for Friday and was backup support for Sunday lineups. Thus, Saturday was the only day I could sit back and relax while watching. My first time lineups included: Hatsune Miku, Peso Pluma, Late Night Drive Home, Jon Batiste, Ateez, le Sserafim, Purple Disco Machine, Bleachers, No Doubt, 88rising Futures, and Latin Mafia. Of all of the performances, I want to take a full deep dive into Ateez and Peso Pluma’s discography in the near future.

#oswlld 2024 wrap up #mine: edits #long post #this is how you lose the time war #23.5 degrees #devil's plan #oppenheimer #bong joon ho #yellow door #cowboy carter #beyonce #lizzy mcalpine #noah kahan #taylor swift #alteronce gumby #ateez #peso pluma #ive been tackling ttpd as though it was folklore/evermore #it reads more like sister albums for me it gives length and structure like musical theatre cast recordings #i dissect the narrative in acts #and im enjoying the writing and narrative more in ttpd standard #but i LOVE the production and variety of topics in the anthology collection #this level of vulnerability and info dumping is not for everyone #and tbh it might not even be for me but it doesn’t make it a bad album #it’s like… i get why there’s criticism about how it needs to be edited down or polished or that it needed ‘more time’#i do get it and a part of me buys into it #imo she’s prob too big to fail. she can get away with almost anything at this rate #im still enjoying it tho. she's a grower #i have the rest of time to have it grow on me. there will be songs that will hit harder in a week/month/year #sorry about the tangent see yall in june

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