The Adventures of Merlin (Warning: Here There Be Spoilers)

Remember when I said I was going to blog my way through Merlin? Yeah, well, I finished the series about a month ago.

...I promise I had a life away from my computer screen. I promise.

Anyways. I find myself in an odd position--I liked the show, a lot, but remain as unimpressed with it as I did when I started out. Okay, I'm a little more impressed by it--but it really is a pretty bad show.

When I first started watching, I would make a tally every time "destiny" was mentioned. There got to be so many tallies that I had to stop. The episodes are repetitive and get boring very quickly: There is some magical problem, either a creature or a sorcerer, which is trying to kill either Uther or Arthur, and Merlin is The Only One who can save them, because of his Awesome And Unsurpassed Power. A friend pointed out that a lot of TV shows are formulaic in that way, and I suppose that's true--but other shows have some kind of side plot that advances with each episode, or the characters grow or change, perceptibly, and I didn't feel like Merlin had that. It was just monotonous; and I don't think I'd have minded, except for a few things that I couldn't get over.

One was the way in which Merlin kept running off to the Dragon (of Destiny) for help--sometimes I could see when it was necessary but other times I thought he could have handled the problem on his own, or didn't think the Dragon's input was relevant. Merlin let himself be influenced too much by the Dragon. Another was that in the very first episode Uther was talking about how Camelot had been free from magic for years and years, how he had eradicated it. And yet the show was based around all of the magical problems that plague the kingdom, all of the sorcerers and creatures that are clearly not eradicated. The show's most fundamental concept is hypocritical. It wouldn't have been that hard to have a subplot about how the Old Religion was rising again (that might have been really interesting!), or even just have someone--anyone! It doesn't matter who!--say a line along the lines of "Gee, this is strange, isn't it?"

Another problem, along the same lines, was that not only was the show formulaic, it was formulaic to the point of using almost the exact same lines episode after episode, particularly when it came to Uther. "Magic is evil, magic is evil"--it gets boring, and then annoying, and the force of Uther's hatred loses any impact it might have had. The characters never change--not Uther; not Arthur: caught between his father's will and his own, but always falling back into compliance; every episode it seems like they're going through the same motions.

I was disappointed by how they handled Morgana's becoming evil. She was such a great character before--passionate, funny, smart--and after she started attempting to ruin Camelot, she lost all of that. She became flat and one-dimensional; there wasn't even any internal conflict or regret or second thoughts--she was pure evil, defined by her desire for revenge. And no one is pure evil. Conflicted villains are the best, both because they're realistic and because when they're done well, they're interesting; and it was like she had never been the person we came to know in the beginning seasons, like she never even remembered seasons 1 and 2. I loved her relationship with Morgause--even that would have been great, seeing a villainous sister duo! But that didn't happen.

The show's family-friendliness also got on my nerves. I have nothing against family-friendly shows; I think it's great that they're getting kids interested in history and mythology and that there's a show that parents and kids can both watch and enjoy together. But the fact that there would be scenes in which people would stab each other, and there would never be any blood on the weapon, ever, irked me. I'm not saying everything should be bloody and violent! I think the media and entertainment industries have made people too desensitized to violence, and don't appreciate violence for violence's sake--but not having any blood at all is just unrealistic and not only takes away from the show by drawing the viewer out of the world that's been created, but takes away the impact that showing realistic wounds would have had--violence has consequences, and showing the results of those consequences makes it real for the character and the audience in a way that passing over it doesn't.

So, with all these complaints, I was surprised to find myself enjoying the show. I really started to like it after Uther dies and Arthur becomes king. I've said that the characters don't grow, but that's not strictly true--they  grow, they just grow very slowly and mostly after Uther dies, and it's a long time to wait. We see Arthur grow so much more as a character after he's free from the constraints of Uther's mindless bigotry. I liked seeing how the show interpreted the myths; as a history nerd it was fun to see how things were portrayed. And the cast remained super hot, which just made everything better. I mean really, Knights of the Round Table. I think I know the kind of criteria Arthur had in mind when he was selecting y'all, and I very much approve.

It's very enjoyable to watch all of the characters interact with each other; they have great friendships, great relationships, that are interesting and heartwarming and make you care about them all. You can see the love between them, and you feel included in that love. That, I think, is why I kept watching--I came to care about the characters, and wanted to stick with them till the end. Arthur and Gwen's relationship was sweet if a little sappy. (And I was wrong about Gwen, she turned out to be a very strong character. Though I'm not sure I approve of her returning to Arthur after he banished her. From a storyteller's perspective, I think it would've been cool if the two of them went their separate ways, Gwen married that bandit-lord and Arthur married Mithian, and then later they had to reconnect as respective rulers and deal with their history and any lingering feelings. From a person-perspective, I think it was crappy of Arthur to treat her like that and I'm not sure I like the underlying message being sent when Gwen goes back to him--she doesn't have to take that from him, and it felt like throughout that story arc, until she and Arthur were reconciled, her character was defined by her love and pining for Arthur. To some extent it was like that even after they reconciled.) Arthur and Merlin's relationship was the real treat of the show. The bromance episodes were few and far between during the first seasons, and I got annoyed by Arthur's awful treatment of Merlin. But then the bromance scenes came more frequently, and the two of them were just so funny and cute and touching and the last episode was heartbreaking. Really heartbreaking. (They should have kissed. Just saying.)

I know there's a lot of controversy over the very end of the show, but I actually liked it. Once I got over my initial surprise that that was how it was ending--no scenes of Gwen's grief, no aftermath--just a clean break with Gwen's coronation, and then the quick connection to the modern day--I thought it was a clever way to do it. It really adds a sense of finality but also continuity, and puts the series firmly in the context of a story, and in the past. We don't get to see Gwen's reign, we don't get to see what happens to the knights or Camelot or Gaius, or even the rest of Merlin's life--we're not supposed to know that. That's not part of the story we've been experiencing. And the sudden contrast between the mise-en-scene of Camelot and the mise-en-scene of the present day reminds us that it's a legend that we've been witnessing--the Arthurian legends that we know on paper have been given substance and depth, given life; and now they are dead. It's not sad. It's the closing of a book.

Now that Merlin is over, I must find other TV to watch. I'm really enjoying Orphan Black on BBC America, though it's not normally the kind of thing I go for; don't talk to me about the current season of Doctor Who unless you want a long conversation about the problems with the recent episodes; Smash is being cancelled, unfortunately (I kind of saw it coming, and I don't blame them, but still!). I've spent the last week re-watching Avatar: The Last Airbender on Netflix Instant Watch, a most beloved show that I'm really enjoying watching straight through, and I may or may not have almost finished it. But it's summer, and I'm sure I'll find other things to do with my time. Like reading Le Morte D'Arthur, and re-watching this fan trailer over and over again. Long Live Arthur Merthur ;)

--Flannery

Book People

...Or, A Post In Which Flannery Carries On About Jane Austen, A Quest For The Time Machine, And Questions Concerning Her Future.

(Disclaimer: I am the one who is not concise. It is one of many traits my pseudosister possesses that I sometimes wish I could steal. I make my apologies now.)

I have been having a lot of feelings about books lately. Not in a "I just finished this awesome novel, allow me to fangirl for a while" way (though admittedly that happens a lot), but in a "I want to be involved in the literary world, look at these awesome things, and the awesome things people are saying--let me join in" way.

In addition to being a Pseudosister, I'm an administrator for the Jane Austen page on the Fandom blog. Today, Dear Readers, was the 200th anniversary of the publication of Pride and Prejudice. I will not allow this to devolve into a P&P-appreciation post, but suffice it to say that that novel is very near and dear to my heart, as is Jane Austen and her works in general (am I staying up far later than I should considering I have class tomorrow morning watching my collection of adaptations on my laptop? Did my friend and I spend a good five minutes making incomprehensible noises and dancing around the hallway after we watched today's Lizzie Bennet Diaries episode? ...Maybe. Maybe). And I spent most of my day between classes and chorus and eating and other important things like that scouring the internet for links and dates for my "200th anniversary" post.

What struck me was not only that there was stuff about it everywhere--in newspapers, on blogs, in museums, in ads, in recently-released books--but that everyone was still talking about it in the first place. 200 years is a long time. It's a testament to Austen's skill as a writer and the universal themes of her story that after all this time people are still as enamored of it as they were in 1813. It's never been out of print! There have been 20 million copies sold worldwide! So many movie adaptations, and book adaptations, and books and art and other things inspired by this novel; people regularly dress up in period costume and hold events like those of the Regency era; there is merchandise and fan fiction and I don't even know what else. (This is starting to turn into a litany of Jane Austen Enthusiasm, isn't it? ...Heh.) The devotion of the fans is incredible (and if there's one thing the internet has taught us, it's not to underestimate the emotions of a fan). It has been debated and analyzed in all kinds of academic settings and scholarly discussions.

And the awesome thing is that the same can be said about any number of literary works. So many books continue to inspire and encourage people, providing enjoyment and prompting wide varieties of conversations, despite their age. This is what I love.

As someone who grew up in a household full of books (literally full of. We're almost at 19,000 and counting, and no, I am not making that up), and was taught to understand and enjoy both the overreaching and personal importance of them (basically what I'm saying is that I was born and raised a nerd), I love that people are so eager and willing to express their feelings about a novel, be they positive or negative, and that these feelings are getting so much widespread attention in today's society. I love that people are talking about books, in, at least from what I saw, a civilized manner. There were no personal attacks in the comments, no blind promotion or hatred, but rather explained, respectful opinions.

I know that the kind of comments I just described are not necessarily normal (oh how I wish!)--I need only to go watch a music video on YouTube to see the truth in that. But this brings me to the core of this post, to the feelings that prompted this post in the first place. I can't help but feel that book people are good people. That statement is pretty naive and generalized, I know, but...seeing people be happy together over books makes me happy. I can't help but think well of someone who can have a logical discussion on the merits or lack-thereof of a novel, or who can happily devote the time to writing an article about a book or character or adaptation, etc, or who gets so attached to a piece of writing that they spiral into incomprehensible noises and dances in hallways. Hey, I'm a nerd. It's what I do.

It's not just today, though, with the Austen post. Whenever I have an English class I try to buy the books at one of the fabulous independent bookstores in town rather than from the campus bookstore. For my sci-fi/fantasy class I needed a good long list of them, and so into the first indie I went. As the clerk was looking up the titles, we got into a conversation, started by the fact that they didn't have a copy of The Time Machine and that that was actually the one I needed first. He kept telling me that they could order it, but that wasn't really the point.
"It's fine that you don't have it, I just wanted to see if any of the local stores had the books I needed before getting them from school," I told him.
It was like a magic key. We began talking in earnest, with him saying several times how appreciative he and his fellow clerk (I have a feeling they were the owners) were for my going to indies, and he went on a bit of a mini-rant about universities and their ways of tricking students (this post isn't a plug for independent bookstores, I promise, though really. Think about it.). The clerks asked what course the books were for, what professor I had, and I told them. They happily exclaimed that the professor shops there often!
"Oh, I know we have this one in stock, my fellow clerk loves it! Your professor probably got this recommendation from her!"
I bought what books I could and placed and order for the rest, and as I was paying the clerk said, laughing, "This is a long list! I'll tell [your professor] to go easy on you guys next time he's here!"
I left filled with a renewed love for and pride in book people. It's this kind of relationship, this camaraderie, that I adore. It was a short, pretty impersonal conversation. And yet there was kinship, based on the mere shared love of books and the recognition of that love in the other person.

(As I read over this, I want to add that in a sense I'm talking about nerds as well as book people--there's the same feeling of connection about all sorts of things people are passionate about, be it Doctor Who or Jane Austen or what have you. This wonderful quote from John Green, which I have immortalized on a poster on my wall, encompasses the emotion and bond I'm trying to relate: "Nerds like us are allowed to be unironically enthusiastic about stuff. Nerds are allowed to love stuff--like, jump-up-and-down-in-your-chair-can't-control-yourself love it. When people call people nerds, mostly what they're saying is "You like stuff," which is not a good insult at all. Like, "You are too enthusiastic about the miracle of human consciousness.")

It happened again in the next store I went into (still on my quest for a copy of The Time Machine). The person behind the desk was one I was familiar with, the woman who headed the Young Adult section there and who I had bonded with in a similar way, as I just had with the other clerks, on previous occasions, when I had gone in to buy new releases of things and we ended up trading book recommendations for a good ten minutes. She told me that they were out of The Time Machine, and then--
"I love your pin!" gesturing to the "YA Saves" pin I have on my coat.
I beamed, thanked her, and left. It's rare that people know what my pin means--the only other time someone has commented on it (apart from giving it confused looks/ignoring it/cautiously asking me about it) was in fact in the only independent bookstore near my hometown, when the clerk said "I love your pin! Mine's at home!". I felt again that kinship, that sense of "You're a part of my world and I'm a part of yours, and I acknowledge and appreciate that fact".

I love being a book person, being a part of that world. And I guess I'm getting around to the other part of my post. I want to spend my life being in that world, I want to be allowed to do that for a job. People always say to do what you love, and...that's it. Writing, of course, is part of it--I will never stop dreaming of becoming a published author--but apart from that, which I can not see going over very well with the parents when I graduate college ("Guess what! I'm not going to get a job with an immediate income! I'm going to spend all my time writing novels and trying to get them published!"), I want to do something with literature. Whenever I have encounters like the ones I did in the bookstores, as well as when I simply read an article about issues in publishing and the YA world or current YA trends or the problems with the portrayal of certain YA trends, I get such an intense feeling of "when can I do this?". I want to talk about these things. I want to write about these things. I have more intense feelings and opinions about these things than I do about many others. The problem...is that I don't actually know what I want to do. 

I have been somewhat apprehensive lately about the fact that I really have no idea what actual job I want to do after I graduate, or even what I want to major in. As a first-year college student, I know that it's okay not to know that yet, but I can't help but feel that way when literally almost everyone I talk to, first-years included, has a plan for their college education at least and in some cases for their future careers. I can't say how reassuring it was to be in my Introduction to Comparative Literature class this afternoon, where everyone but one is a first-year, and have virtually every single person admit to not knowing what they want to study.

Whatever I end up studying--English? Comp Lit? History? Anthropology? American Studies? So many possibilities...--I know where I want to end up. The specifics of that (publishing? Translation work? Publishing?) may be a little less clear, but I know where I want to end up, in a vague, indefinite sense. And I know that even while I'm figuring it out, even once I have figured it out, I will always be a Book Person. And I take comfort in that.

--Flannery

(P.S. I wanted to share some of the Jane Austen pieces that made me especially happy and proud to be a Book Person, such as Huffington Post's debating articles on who the best Mr. Darcy is in the movie adaptations--the comments are lovely--and Sarah Rees Brennan's insightful discussion on sexism in the literary world.)