~~ pain. angst. woe. fictional, of course.
Oct. 3rd, 2003 01:55 pmIt's funny that how I forget myself, sometimes, trying to be all reasonable and "hey, I can take it". When Maya wrote that post about needing brightness in stories, needing some sort of hope, some sort of redemption, just because that's what stories are -for-, they're such potent catalysts for change, and it's almost unbearable to think of this ever-expanding fictional universe, which, unlike the "real" one will never change unless the author says so....
I wasn't sure I myself thought I needed stories to be prickled with light in that way, to inspire me, to basically function as escapism. I don't always want escapism-- I can be mesmerized by the beautiful ways one can bear the most unbearable pain, I can appreciate darkness, something like heavy drapes drawn against the world. It's an aesthetic.
The interesting thing is, that Maya wrote two of the fanfics that I'd consider most hopeless and nearly unbearable in this fandom. `Your Every Wish' and `Dark Side of Light', of course. Both of them completely drained me in their complete dessication of any sort of hope for relief. I suppose the thing that redeemed them for me was the aching presence of strong emotion, of love, of need, of passion, even though it was all misdirected and unrequited and doomed and too little too late. Even so, both of these stories were -taut- with the possibility of light, always denied. It was much more powerful because it had an awareness of what it was missing, not just implied but somehow present.
There were the threads there of how the hopeless tangle wound itself-- it didn't just come into being fully-formed before the beginning of the story. It wound itself up -within- the story, and I think I find that essential as well. If I read a fic with such a dearth of hope in it, I think I want to see it bleed. Not incidentally, but as a major part of the driving force behind the story. I want to see the emotional arc, even if it ends in despair.
Which is why I think fics which start in utter despair and end in utter despair just completely don't work for me. I wait and wait (if I keep reading) for the shift to occur, for that essential (for me) narrative change, where it doesn't matter what, but something's not the same anymore. Pain that is constant and at a high pitch throughout a story wears me out without giving me anything in return. It casts me down without illuminating me, without telling me -why- and allowing my emotions some sort of outlet, a release.
I was raised on fairy-tales, and I think I still think in that way. My ideal ending is, of course, Tolkien's eucatastrophe, where we come through darkness to be redeemed. I think this is the sort of essential light that Maya was wanting in her post-- that basic thread of hope about the human condition if nothing else. Editing that, I would hope to at least for an emotional catharsis of some sort, even if it's a dark one. I would hope to feel -cleansed- by a flood of grief. That's a release also-- the release of tears, of really mourning something. It's a dark ending for the fic, but for the reader, it might still be a strong, powerful thing, something to seize on their hearts and make them really take that necessary gulping breath of cold air.
An example of a relentlessly dark fic that released me in a way that felt right without really destroying its darkness or offering any platitudes would be
weatherby's `Contrition'. It's a very painful story, but it works because the pain itself becomes a kind of bond, a catalyst that brings friends together. Grief itself has a sort of arc. It doesn't really go away, but at some point, if you have support, it eases, it transforms. You realize that you're alive and you can feel and that not everything has to hurt anymore. And that can be a revelation.
All of this is a way of explaining why
amanuensis1's new fic, `And Just Plain Wrong' didn't work for me, why so many unrelentingly dark fics don't work for me. I can't even enjoy the writing because the ball of misery in me makes it a chore to -read-, even. What's the point? I get nothing from it, no pleasure, no release, no titillation, no spark of knowledge or enlightenment, no new thought. I -knew- life sucks and then you die. No fic has to tell me.
So I guess I'm with Maya, except to say that darkfic -can- work, for me anway, (as her own fics would show!) if there's passion, some guiding principle, a force at work behind it. Basically, I need an explanation that doesn't feel forced. It needs to feel natural. And in real life, there are rhythms-- torture is never endless and unbearable-- and if it is, the person tends to go mad and there is no story because their mind is a barren wasteland. Even if life completely clobbers you, the heroic ones among us go on to have a very rich life of the mind. You don't need anything except what's in there, in your brain, waiting for you. A whole world.
I'm just saying that when it comes down to it, -I- will never really enjoy anyone's real pain. I can enjoy the sort of pain I know that person can tolerate-- but when a character is undergoing unbearable punishment of any sort, I can not ever enjoy it. And I'm glad, man. I'm glad. And I don't think it's because I'm so kink-free. I totally do like semi-noncon and physical domination between equals and such. It's hot. I'm into Buffy/Spike-- `Wrecked' was my favorite episode of the pairing (possibly tied with the musical, because dude-- Willow and Spike and Anya and Buffy and Giles, all singing!!). The difference there is that it was pain both of them could easily withstand. It was nothing, really. It was a game, almost.
Slytherlynx said something about enjoying fics which give Draco pain-- and I can too-- and I do-- when there's any chance that -he'll- enjoy it, if not now, then a chance that it will -lead- to his enjoyment. Pain for the sake of pain followed by more pain is just... pointless. I don't like sweetness for the sake of sweetness followed by sweetness, either. Though I realize both things are more about emotional/physical kink than philosophy, for me as well. (My kink is pain made bearable, made feral by joy or anger or passion-- some sort of living, breathing, kicking emotion).
In `And Just Plain Wrong', it was far, far from a game to Harry, and that meant I had zero chance of enjoying it. Thus I couldn't really enjoy Sara's `Control' or Weather of the Heart-- in the latter case, it was almost a travesty that it -did- turn around and become "okay"-- but I'm such a sucker for it not being awful that I -was- relieved and started to enjoy the fic more at that point. I -need- that relief simply to -breathe-, to be able to -think- about the story. I need it to be a -story-, where there's a frame, a -boundary- around suffering, which is why it's instructive, which is why you can -think- about it and look at it from different angles. Which is why it's a story and not a window onto hell. (And yes, this means I feel awful about the two rapefics I've written, because they're so pointless, and I'm not too happy about several others that were dark, that I don't feel -went- anywhere).
And I can, of course, appreciate a window onto hell also. If it had something to tell me besides "this hurts, doesn't it". Just a bit of knowledge would make it worthwhile, I think.
To me, that is.
I wasn't sure I myself thought I needed stories to be prickled with light in that way, to inspire me, to basically function as escapism. I don't always want escapism-- I can be mesmerized by the beautiful ways one can bear the most unbearable pain, I can appreciate darkness, something like heavy drapes drawn against the world. It's an aesthetic.
The interesting thing is, that Maya wrote two of the fanfics that I'd consider most hopeless and nearly unbearable in this fandom. `Your Every Wish' and `Dark Side of Light', of course. Both of them completely drained me in their complete dessication of any sort of hope for relief. I suppose the thing that redeemed them for me was the aching presence of strong emotion, of love, of need, of passion, even though it was all misdirected and unrequited and doomed and too little too late. Even so, both of these stories were -taut- with the possibility of light, always denied. It was much more powerful because it had an awareness of what it was missing, not just implied but somehow present.
There were the threads there of how the hopeless tangle wound itself-- it didn't just come into being fully-formed before the beginning of the story. It wound itself up -within- the story, and I think I find that essential as well. If I read a fic with such a dearth of hope in it, I think I want to see it bleed. Not incidentally, but as a major part of the driving force behind the story. I want to see the emotional arc, even if it ends in despair.
Which is why I think fics which start in utter despair and end in utter despair just completely don't work for me. I wait and wait (if I keep reading) for the shift to occur, for that essential (for me) narrative change, where it doesn't matter what, but something's not the same anymore. Pain that is constant and at a high pitch throughout a story wears me out without giving me anything in return. It casts me down without illuminating me, without telling me -why- and allowing my emotions some sort of outlet, a release.
I was raised on fairy-tales, and I think I still think in that way. My ideal ending is, of course, Tolkien's eucatastrophe, where we come through darkness to be redeemed. I think this is the sort of essential light that Maya was wanting in her post-- that basic thread of hope about the human condition if nothing else. Editing that, I would hope to at least for an emotional catharsis of some sort, even if it's a dark one. I would hope to feel -cleansed- by a flood of grief. That's a release also-- the release of tears, of really mourning something. It's a dark ending for the fic, but for the reader, it might still be a strong, powerful thing, something to seize on their hearts and make them really take that necessary gulping breath of cold air.
An example of a relentlessly dark fic that released me in a way that felt right without really destroying its darkness or offering any platitudes would be
All of this is a way of explaining why
So I guess I'm with Maya, except to say that darkfic -can- work, for me anway, (as her own fics would show!) if there's passion, some guiding principle, a force at work behind it. Basically, I need an explanation that doesn't feel forced. It needs to feel natural. And in real life, there are rhythms-- torture is never endless and unbearable-- and if it is, the person tends to go mad and there is no story because their mind is a barren wasteland. Even if life completely clobbers you, the heroic ones among us go on to have a very rich life of the mind. You don't need anything except what's in there, in your brain, waiting for you. A whole world.
I'm just saying that when it comes down to it, -I- will never really enjoy anyone's real pain. I can enjoy the sort of pain I know that person can tolerate-- but when a character is undergoing unbearable punishment of any sort, I can not ever enjoy it. And I'm glad, man. I'm glad. And I don't think it's because I'm so kink-free. I totally do like semi-noncon and physical domination between equals and such. It's hot. I'm into Buffy/Spike-- `Wrecked' was my favorite episode of the pairing (possibly tied with the musical, because dude-- Willow and Spike and Anya and Buffy and Giles, all singing!!). The difference there is that it was pain both of them could easily withstand. It was nothing, really. It was a game, almost.
Slytherlynx said something about enjoying fics which give Draco pain-- and I can too-- and I do-- when there's any chance that -he'll- enjoy it, if not now, then a chance that it will -lead- to his enjoyment. Pain for the sake of pain followed by more pain is just... pointless. I don't like sweetness for the sake of sweetness followed by sweetness, either. Though I realize both things are more about emotional/physical kink than philosophy, for me as well. (My kink is pain made bearable, made feral by joy or anger or passion-- some sort of living, breathing, kicking emotion).
In `And Just Plain Wrong', it was far, far from a game to Harry, and that meant I had zero chance of enjoying it. Thus I couldn't really enjoy Sara's `Control' or Weather of the Heart-- in the latter case, it was almost a travesty that it -did- turn around and become "okay"-- but I'm such a sucker for it not being awful that I -was- relieved and started to enjoy the fic more at that point. I -need- that relief simply to -breathe-, to be able to -think- about the story. I need it to be a -story-, where there's a frame, a -boundary- around suffering, which is why it's instructive, which is why you can -think- about it and look at it from different angles. Which is why it's a story and not a window onto hell. (And yes, this means I feel awful about the two rapefics I've written, because they're so pointless, and I'm not too happy about several others that were dark, that I don't feel -went- anywhere).
And I can, of course, appreciate a window onto hell also. If it had something to tell me besides "this hurts, doesn't it". Just a bit of knowledge would make it worthwhile, I think.
To me, that is.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-07 06:26 am (UTC)I don't like...bleakness. I like meaning. Maybe it's untrue to the spirit of things, I don't know, but I think that writing should have some kind of point. Even if the point is just to express how everything is random, tragic, and pointless, well, that's still a point, isn't it?
Funnily enough, though, I do like tragedy. Vicarious pain and all that. But I don't like emptiness and hopelessness. Maybe because there's such a thing as painful escapism, too? It's not your pain - it's easier to feel. That's why you can read tragedy and not be miserable for days afterwards. It's...I don't know...a genre...like romance...unrealistic, in that the reaction would be totally different if it was happening to you.
I think it's interesting, though, that what I like to read and what I like to write are different. I love to horribly abuse my characters. I have to reprimand myself with, no one will read this, it's too depressing.
I just read 'Dark Side of Light' and it's a good example...it was dark, and bleak, but it didn't make me miserable, because there was a kind of liveliness, and vitality, just in the way Maya writes, that underscores the tragedy, that gives us hope for the human condition even if there isn't any for the characters.
I -knew- life sucks and then you die. No fic has to tell me.
Yeah. I totally agree. I've read book and thought...wow, life is misery. Wait, that's fairly obvious. How does it help? There needs to be some hope, somewhere, at least for me.
For a random example, take Tess of the D'Urbervilles, which I love, despite its tragedy and depressing nature, and sheer lack of faith or hope in humanity. Hardy writes in reaction to his times, to the hypocrisy and social flaws, and the tragedy is a criticism of contemporary behavior. I read it, and it makes me feel such pain, but in the end, I think, the behavior that inspired him to write the book - where is it now? It's gone. The Victorian class systems? No more. His characters, alive today, would not suffer what they suffered. And I feel that Hardy would have been happy, in this one respect at least, with the way we turned out. And it just makes me love the world a little bit more - that, with all the messed up things that are going on, this one thing, that he objected to so strongly he wrote an entire tragic novel about it, has been fixed. It doesn't leave me bleak.