(remus out loud)
Oct. 14th, 2004 07:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
reenkaOn a random note, one of the things that bother me most about being part of fandom is the knowledge that by the time book 7 comes out, I'll certainly be long gone from active fannish duty & probably not posting on lj, so I'd be completely unaware of anything and everything, fandomwise, and yet. And yet I'm equally certain that I'd totally cheer when (fine, if) Ron/Hermione becomes canon-- and not even because I care all that much, man. In fact, without fandom, I probably wouldn't care about any ship whatsoever, really. It would just be to spite everyone who didn't want it to happen. It's because I'd know that so many people were like, 'grrr, argh' and that would give me some sort of perverse satisfaction. *sigh* On the other hand, I'd probably enjoy it if H/Hr happened too, in an even more perverse and messed up way, 'cause I can't stand the pairing and yet the very 'omg no!!1' nature of them being canon would amuse me. Besides, I read Derannimer's post on HPfGU about how Ron & Hermione don't banter and rather it's that Ron teases while Hermione bristles, and I've gotta say, she has a point (though that says nothing at all about the glory of H/Hr... or the fact that I like bickering too). I think the only outcome I can't possibly enjoy is Harry dying (and even that... the perversity lurks). I'm secretly an evil person, aren't I? ...All right, I lie. I'd be really upset if anything ...er... permanent happened to Harry or Ron.
Perhaps it's just that R/Hr isn't an OTP after all, if I go by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
musesfool's definition, where it's all about "that Oh god when it doesn't work, I want to cry". That's a great definition, because I do think that for me, an OTP doesn't necessarily mean I can't bear to imagine either of them with anyone else-- it just means that I'm painfully, ridiculously invested in the couple so that their happiness is my happiness and their pain is my pain. And even when-- especially when-- they seem doomed to fail, that's when I care about them the most. And not because of irrenconcilable differences or a falling out-- the worst (best?) is when they seem doomed to fail because they love each other so much, so much, but love isn't enough.
My most intense OTPs have always been about love making you real-- loving in spite of despair and hoping against hope and needing the impossible enough to touch it even once. And those times that one touches happiness like that-- they would be so much more precious, wouldn't they? Because the happiness lives in the midst of ruin, the way fearlessness could live in the midst of dying.
I think part of the reason I love Sirius/Remus is that they start out at polar opposite ends of the spectrum in so far as responses to fear and how one's ego works to conceal/preserve vs. project oneself onto others-- eventually greying since Sirius had to pull in on himself in Azkaban and Remus was a teacher, reaching out to others. Death may be the destination, but their journey is full of loops and shifts and turns enough to make these things more than the sum of their parts, it seems.
So to me, Sirius is the wild, untamed part of a whole that isn't afraid of living at all, and sees itself through others' reflections-- so he needed James, his brother, the one next to him-- and Peter, the one beneath him, looking up, and Remus, who-- Remus who needed him and reflected without stealing any thunder. Remus who was calm and calming, who wouldn't have gotten in the way, whom he could... use even as he helped. It's sort of complicated, now that I think about it.
Remus would be the hidden part of the ego that condenses and hides and eludes definition like it would burn, making them complementary aspects of the ego's drive to communicate. I'm much more like Remus, probably. And this really hit home when I was readingmusesfool's post on hope and saying and not saying what one means and failing and trying again. I was especially thinking about the walls between those two, and the idea that after Azkaban, Sirius would take what he can get of Remus because he "knows how easily and how thoroughly Remus can shut him out when he chooses", and that's just a lot like the way I function. Like, I let people in over and over, but the more they hurt me, the less deep they can go, even though I wouldn't leave them first. Remus would never really -leave- as much as he'd be there and not there at the same time, because that's what Remus does.
This reminded me of a story I'm working on (sort of), which is what gave me my first real insight into Remus of any kind-- that there are all these things he doesn't say, for many reasons. Not because he's repressed, precisely, but because he is so enclosed within himself that he just doesn't feel the need to say them. And all those unspoken words accumulate, weighing him down like stones, turning him grey and tired and exhausted, but he wouldn't ever let go all the way because there's this fear behind the hoarding of oneself-- the fear that if one lets go, one would float away and never get oneself back again. This ties in with Remus' need to be liked-- because he's so desperate for it, and yet he has to keep something of himself, something that doesn't depend on other people. I can just -believe- that Remus loves Sirius more than Sirius could ever imagine and more than even -Remus- bothers to imagine because as long as you don't think about it, it's bearable, and he could eke out his existence and not break. Because that sort of strength-- when one separates parts of oneself from each other, as in, 'this is Moony, who needed Sirius and James to be all right' and 'this is the werewolf, who is a monstrous disease and not me' and 'this is me, Remus, who doesn't need anybody'-- it is brittle. It succeeds only as long as one maintains the necessary illusion that one can do it and one will not fall and will not be touched. And that sort of belief is the stuff of fairytale princesses who never laugh or weep-- they always do in the end, don't they?
In the end, it seems I'm just fascinated by the love-affair between hope and despair. It's not that one wins over the other-- just as the urge to communicate and withdraw goes in cycles. This all reminds me of circles, and becoming the person you need to be because that's what life teaches you. Both Remus & Sirius are the people they need to be to deal with their circumstances, right-- and the question is whether their identity is still in there, somewhere, after all that. It seems like Sirius makes everything too simple, too focused on one driving need-- to protect, to remember, to punish. And Remus overthinks things and everything becomes scattered and fragmented and complicated, so any word or expression of himself has to be weighed and balanced and compared to a countless number of other possibilities.
Not that I'm saying there are any answers here, but oh, I just love the chase after them. Who are they-- who are we, really, when we don't have to do anything, and only -want- to?
Perhaps it's just that R/Hr isn't an OTP after all, if I go by
musesfool's definition, where it's all about "that Oh god when it doesn't work, I want to cry". That's a great definition, because I do think that for me, an OTP doesn't necessarily mean I can't bear to imagine either of them with anyone else-- it just means that I'm painfully, ridiculously invested in the couple so that their happiness is my happiness and their pain is my pain. And even when-- especially when-- they seem doomed to fail, that's when I care about them the most. And not because of irrenconcilable differences or a falling out-- the worst (best?) is when they seem doomed to fail because they love each other so much, so much, but love isn't enough.My most intense OTPs have always been about love making you real-- loving in spite of despair and hoping against hope and needing the impossible enough to touch it even once. And those times that one touches happiness like that-- they would be so much more precious, wouldn't they? Because the happiness lives in the midst of ruin, the way fearlessness could live in the midst of dying.
I think part of the reason I love Sirius/Remus is that they start out at polar opposite ends of the spectrum in so far as responses to fear and how one's ego works to conceal/preserve vs. project oneself onto others-- eventually greying since Sirius had to pull in on himself in Azkaban and Remus was a teacher, reaching out to others. Death may be the destination, but their journey is full of loops and shifts and turns enough to make these things more than the sum of their parts, it seems.
So to me, Sirius is the wild, untamed part of a whole that isn't afraid of living at all, and sees itself through others' reflections-- so he needed James, his brother, the one next to him-- and Peter, the one beneath him, looking up, and Remus, who-- Remus who needed him and reflected without stealing any thunder. Remus who was calm and calming, who wouldn't have gotten in the way, whom he could... use even as he helped. It's sort of complicated, now that I think about it.
Remus would be the hidden part of the ego that condenses and hides and eludes definition like it would burn, making them complementary aspects of the ego's drive to communicate. I'm much more like Remus, probably. And this really hit home when I was reading
musesfool's post on hope and saying and not saying what one means and failing and trying again. I was especially thinking about the walls between those two, and the idea that after Azkaban, Sirius would take what he can get of Remus because he "knows how easily and how thoroughly Remus can shut him out when he chooses", and that's just a lot like the way I function. Like, I let people in over and over, but the more they hurt me, the less deep they can go, even though I wouldn't leave them first. Remus would never really -leave- as much as he'd be there and not there at the same time, because that's what Remus does.This reminded me of a story I'm working on (sort of), which is what gave me my first real insight into Remus of any kind-- that there are all these things he doesn't say, for many reasons. Not because he's repressed, precisely, but because he is so enclosed within himself that he just doesn't feel the need to say them. And all those unspoken words accumulate, weighing him down like stones, turning him grey and tired and exhausted, but he wouldn't ever let go all the way because there's this fear behind the hoarding of oneself-- the fear that if one lets go, one would float away and never get oneself back again. This ties in with Remus' need to be liked-- because he's so desperate for it, and yet he has to keep something of himself, something that doesn't depend on other people. I can just -believe- that Remus loves Sirius more than Sirius could ever imagine and more than even -Remus- bothers to imagine because as long as you don't think about it, it's bearable, and he could eke out his existence and not break. Because that sort of strength-- when one separates parts of oneself from each other, as in, 'this is Moony, who needed Sirius and James to be all right' and 'this is the werewolf, who is a monstrous disease and not me' and 'this is me, Remus, who doesn't need anybody'-- it is brittle. It succeeds only as long as one maintains the necessary illusion that one can do it and one will not fall and will not be touched. And that sort of belief is the stuff of fairytale princesses who never laugh or weep-- they always do in the end, don't they?
In the end, it seems I'm just fascinated by the love-affair between hope and despair. It's not that one wins over the other-- just as the urge to communicate and withdraw goes in cycles. This all reminds me of circles, and becoming the person you need to be because that's what life teaches you. Both Remus & Sirius are the people they need to be to deal with their circumstances, right-- and the question is whether their identity is still in there, somewhere, after all that. It seems like Sirius makes everything too simple, too focused on one driving need-- to protect, to remember, to punish. And Remus overthinks things and everything becomes scattered and fragmented and complicated, so any word or expression of himself has to be weighed and balanced and compared to a countless number of other possibilities.
Not that I'm saying there are any answers here, but oh, I just love the chase after them. Who are they-- who are we, really, when we don't have to do anything, and only -want- to?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 06:53 pm (UTC)I guess what I took from her definition for myself, anyway, wasn't that need for happiness but that deep investment/transferrence of my own emotions onto theirs and vice versa...? Like, if they're unhappy, it -matters-, and it matters even more if they -can't- be happy because life tears them apart, making any time they shared more intense and meaningful, I guess...? It's like, I shipped S/R before OoTP because of `Drawing Down the Moon', but after Sirius died there were all these fics dealing with loss and memory and survival and all that, and suddenly they became -real- on a much deeper level-- sort of like Harry became more real to me after OoTP, too, 'cause he was so emotional there. It's just that I get more invested the more intensity there is between people, I guess...?
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 07:10 pm (UTC)Anyway, I get what you're saying. I don't do a great deal of emotional transference, I admit, but investment, yeah I think so. That might be what defines an OTP for me, as well. Although I do tend to enter "I don't want to see them with anyone else!!11!1!" territory, I admit! Even then, however, it depends on the story; sometimes you need those other people in the tale to make it meaningful. And sometimes other people are just a sideroad on the way back home.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 07:22 pm (UTC)...I don't want to see my OTPs with anyone else either, of course :D Jealousy isn't something I'm above by any means, ahahah. I just don't think it's as definitive...? And also I can't talk 'cause with H/D, my Harry totally gets to 'sleep around' whereas my Draco totally doesn't, so I feel sheepish :> Though if the other person is actually -in- the story where the OTP is, then everything changes and I get all possessive (...where we enter into over-identification territory once again, heh).
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 07:31 pm (UTC)So yes, when I say I don't want my OTPs with anyone else, I should clarify (because I am seriously paranoid) that I mean for my own purposes. Like I'm not offended by the existence of destined-to-be Snape/Lupin, for example (aside from having issues with soulmate fic, anyway,) I just don't read it because I don't want to read about Remus loving someone other than Sirius, in the long run.
And my Remus gets to sleep around whereas my Sirius doesn't, I admit. But that's, I don't know. It's a function of the way I see them: Sirius is focused and loyal, Remus is an approval whore. But once they're together, really together, and Remus lets Sirius behind his emotional walls, that's when the sleeping around stops, I think.
I don't know if any of that made any sense, haha.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 07:44 pm (UTC)cynical 2 : having or showing the attitude or temper of a cynic : as a : contemptuously distrustful of human nature and motives those cynical men who say that democracy cannot be honest and efficient -- F. D. Roosevelt> b : based on or reflecting a belief that human conduct is motivated primarily by self-interest.
And 'pessimistic' is listed as a synonym, but it "implies having a gloomy, distrustful view of life", so basically a cynic just disbelieves in selflessness and the higher virtues whereas a pessimist just thinks everything sucks~:))
I tend to think that selflessness is possible but not common, and I really don't know -what- that makes me :>
I think that as long as the two people involved really -see- each other and communicate 'all the way' so to speak, that's what binds them to the point where there's no need for anyone else. It's like, sleeping around would be a sign that there's something missing, and in a really in-depth relationship, one would think all the needs would be being met.
Oh, and I totally don't have any issue with people writing whatever, either, it's always going to be a personal reading preference thing :> People who think personal preferences are oppressive... befuddle me.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 08:19 pm (UTC)I do think these things are possible, but I also think they're uncommon enough that they're pretty much just the inevitable anomaly.
I think that humans are not naturally monogamous, really, so I'm not sure that I think cheating is a sign of something missing. Rather, I think that not-cheating is a sign that someone is using their will instead of their instinct. Unless we're talking about fiction in which case, yeah, I agree. But sometimes the lines get blurred there, so.
And yeah, I know YOU don't have any problem with people writing whatever. I was just afraid I was coming off as though I did, haha.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 08:34 pm (UTC)Y'know, I don't think the idealists deny that the world isn't very happy-shiny or full of virtue, they just say that it could change...?
no subject
Date: 2004-10-14 08:39 pm (UTC)And I have no idea what the deal with idealists is. My mother is one, and she does seem to think that the world is happy-shiny and full of virtue, so I suspect it depends on the individual idealist?
I don't think it can change though. Because it's nature, really.