rosa_acicularis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rosa_acicularis) wrote2008-06-09 08:40 pm
rosa_acicularis) wrote2008-06-09 08:40 pm
Entry tags:
you can never has too much meta: part two.
Now that I've recovered from the explosion of the flist that was Doctor Who Episode Nine, it's totally time for metaness! Metaocity? Metatasticality?
Yeah, whatever.
salienne asked me for my thoughts on a number of excellent subjects, the first being the relationship between the Doctor and the Master.
Let me put it this way: I have watched the sword fight between the Third Doctor and the wondrous Delgado!Master about...forty-seven times. Forty-eight. I haven't been able to finish The Sea Devils because every time I try I just end up rewinding to watch it again. SUCH BEAUTIFUL GENIUS.
Honestly, I don't really ship them. I mean, they have pretty awesome/hilarious chemistry no matter which incarnations are involved, and I have no trouble believing that they may have got up to some naughty things at some point in their extensive past, but any sort of sexual aspect to their relationship is significantly less interesting to me than...well, than pretty much anything else.
It's the 'two different sides of the same coin' bit that always gets me. The Time Lords stood at a distance from everything and everyone around them, but all the boys who would one day become the Master and the Doctor wanted was to hurl themselves into the mess and chaos that is the universe, pull it apart, and put it back together again in the way they thought best. The Doctor fixes things -- he thrives on chaos (the messes he stumbles upon, the messes he creates), imposes his own sort of order, and disappears. The Master tears things apart -- he sees weakness, he tugs and tweaks until it's a gaping wound, then he takes what he's broken and owns it. (Or, at least, he tries to. Bless him.)
It's always been a codependent, my-best-enemy sort of relationship, but New Who took it to a whole other level. It's the Time War, of course, and the guilt and the last of their kind and the who-else-in-the-universe-could-possibly-comprehend-the-size-of-my-ego, and the fact that they're both a lot crazier than they used to be. (Well, maybe not. Say what you will about Ten, but Four was pretty freakin' nutty. I mean, really. THOSE EYES.)
Where was I? Ah yes. I have sort of complex feelings about the common characterization of the Tenth Doctor as wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around the Master's ankles and cling, though I guess it's consistent with what we saw on the show. I love the Master, I really do, but he's a petty, homicidal little bastard, and I sort of wish the Doctor had been like: "Oh no, we're not going to shoot him. No, I think we'll just drop him off on a deserted planet made entirely of pretty pink pillows embroidered with the faces of kittens. Don't worry, though -- we'll leave him a crate of Chef Boyardee ravioli and a can opener. We'll check up on him after -- what d'you say, Martha? Fifty years or so?"
Well, a girl can dream.
She also asked for my musings on Nine/Rose vs. Ten/Rose...
Which is an excellent opportunity for me to state now, on the record, that I am a MASSIVE Nine/Rose shipper. I love Nine so, so much, and the gorgeousness that is Nine and Rose together makes me swoon every. single. time. I watch a series one ep. I love Nine/Rose. I just don't write it.
I used to think it was because I was scared of writing Nine's voice, but I've come to realize that I don't write Nine/Rose because I've never really seen the need. I mean, there's some great Nine/Rose fic out there and I love it, but my creative unconscious seems perfectly happy with series one as it is. It's a beautifully complete story, and I personally don't feel a need to add to it. I first started writing Who fic because I saw this hugely frustrating gap between The Age of Steel and The Idiot's Lantern, and that frustration was the birth of But Broken Lights -- a story which is, more than anything else, about the regeneration and finally dealing with its consequences.
I really do think of Nine/Rose and Ten/Rose as two different eras in the same relationship. The emotional issues between Nine and Rose were far more openly acknowledged -- that is, they fought and challenged each other and changed each other, and it could be quite messy. Then she nearly died saving his life and he died so she wouldn't, and things became both easier and far less open. On one hand, they almost never fight anymore. On the other hand, they almost never fight anymore. They have a whole new host of problems (for the first time they acknowledge that their little tour across the stars will have an end, one day) and yet? No fighting. Instead, there's a distance that forms between them -- Mickey comes aboard, they stare at the same stars while years and lightyears apart, and Rose wanders into the gingerbread house, mouth watering. A definite distance, gone unacknowledged.
And then comes The Idiot's Lantern and everything's pretty much all right again. They still don't know how to talk about things (as proved by The Impossible Planet) but the tension has eased.
If you've read BBL, you have a pretty clear idea of my thoughts on these changes. The shift in their relationship from series one to series two isn't so much a matter of Ten being so different to Nine, but rather a natural consequence of how flippin' traumatic the regeneration and following disaster was for Rose. He died, and he left her on her own. And he came back, which was brilliant, but maybe it made her just a little hesitant. A little more careful of him. And what Rose did to save him, what that means, and how horrified she was by his new self ("And you, Rose Tyler, you gave up on me!") are all Big Scary Emotional Things for the Doctor. So, as close as they've become, they're not quite as open as they used to be. Not quite so young.
And...that sort of answerssalienne's other question about S1 Rose vs. S2 Rose. But not quite, so:
It's all about the hair. No, seriously.
Series Two Rose has, I think deliberately, a look that separates her from the Estate and Mickey and her life before the Doctor. It says, "Yeah, that was me when I was young, but this is how my life is going to be from now on, and it requires short hair and nice slacks."
Hmm. Maybe not. Never mind.
kudzita asked for my thoughts on Josh/Donna vs. Doctor/Rose.
These are, for all intents and purposes, My Ships. The only two I've ever written fic for, anyway. (I sort of wrote Jim/Pam once; it didn't really pan out.) For me (for most of us, I'd imagine), Josh/Donna was all about the banter. Banter is a beautiful thing -- when done well, it's a rhythm and a music that uses as many words as possible to dance around the obvious. He relied on her and she relied on him, and because of where they worked and how very much they loved it (and because they were both idiots) they could never quite manage to admit it.
Rose and the Doctor are all about the turn of the earth -- about the moment when you realize that there's so much more to the world than the ground beneath your feet. You're moving at incredible speeds, spinning, and it's a little like opening your eyes for the first time and a lot like losing control. Like Josh and Donna, the Doctor and Rose are about action, about participating in something greater than yourself because you choose to, because you love it. Josh and Donna had their words, their walk and talks; Rose and the Doctor run hand in hand.
(I just noticed that I've using the present tense for my active fandom and the perfect for my fandom of days gone by. Well, in the end, it is all about me.)
In both ships there's the age difference, the mentor/mentoree aspect to the relationship. Both Donna and Rose are blonde. Both dropped out of school when they were young for men who left them in debt. Both Josh and the Doctor have tragic pasts and egos so large they have their own gravitational pull. Donna and Rose follow, but they never do so blindly. Josh and the Doctor lead, but they trip over their own feet more often than not. Both Donna and Rose can be tempted by a man in uniform; Josh and the Doctor are occasionally ensorcelled by cultured, aggressive women. Donna had pet cats growing up; so did Rose. The Doctor is from an emotionally reserved alien culture; Josh is from New England.
The evidence is overwhelming: Josh/Donna and Doctor/Rose are, in truth, the same ship.
Look at how much we've learned today! I'm very pleased with our progress.
Moar questions?
Yeah, whatever.
salienne asked me for my thoughts on a number of excellent subjects, the first being the relationship between the Doctor and the Master. Let me put it this way: I have watched the sword fight between the Third Doctor and the wondrous Delgado!Master about...forty-seven times. Forty-eight. I haven't been able to finish The Sea Devils because every time I try I just end up rewinding to watch it again. SUCH BEAUTIFUL GENIUS.
Honestly, I don't really ship them. I mean, they have pretty awesome/hilarious chemistry no matter which incarnations are involved, and I have no trouble believing that they may have got up to some naughty things at some point in their extensive past, but any sort of sexual aspect to their relationship is significantly less interesting to me than...well, than pretty much anything else.
It's the 'two different sides of the same coin' bit that always gets me. The Time Lords stood at a distance from everything and everyone around them, but all the boys who would one day become the Master and the Doctor wanted was to hurl themselves into the mess and chaos that is the universe, pull it apart, and put it back together again in the way they thought best. The Doctor fixes things -- he thrives on chaos (the messes he stumbles upon, the messes he creates), imposes his own sort of order, and disappears. The Master tears things apart -- he sees weakness, he tugs and tweaks until it's a gaping wound, then he takes what he's broken and owns it. (Or, at least, he tries to. Bless him.)
It's always been a codependent, my-best-enemy sort of relationship, but New Who took it to a whole other level. It's the Time War, of course, and the guilt and the last of their kind and the who-else-in-the-universe-could-possibly-comprehend-the-size-of-my-ego, and the fact that they're both a lot crazier than they used to be. (Well, maybe not. Say what you will about Ten, but Four was pretty freakin' nutty. I mean, really. THOSE EYES.)
Where was I? Ah yes. I have sort of complex feelings about the common characterization of the Tenth Doctor as wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around the Master's ankles and cling, though I guess it's consistent with what we saw on the show. I love the Master, I really do, but he's a petty, homicidal little bastard, and I sort of wish the Doctor had been like: "Oh no, we're not going to shoot him. No, I think we'll just drop him off on a deserted planet made entirely of pretty pink pillows embroidered with the faces of kittens. Don't worry, though -- we'll leave him a crate of Chef Boyardee ravioli and a can opener. We'll check up on him after -- what d'you say, Martha? Fifty years or so?"
Well, a girl can dream.
She also asked for my musings on Nine/Rose vs. Ten/Rose...
Which is an excellent opportunity for me to state now, on the record, that I am a MASSIVE Nine/Rose shipper. I love Nine so, so much, and the gorgeousness that is Nine and Rose together makes me swoon every. single. time. I watch a series one ep. I love Nine/Rose. I just don't write it.
I used to think it was because I was scared of writing Nine's voice, but I've come to realize that I don't write Nine/Rose because I've never really seen the need. I mean, there's some great Nine/Rose fic out there and I love it, but my creative unconscious seems perfectly happy with series one as it is. It's a beautifully complete story, and I personally don't feel a need to add to it. I first started writing Who fic because I saw this hugely frustrating gap between The Age of Steel and The Idiot's Lantern, and that frustration was the birth of But Broken Lights -- a story which is, more than anything else, about the regeneration and finally dealing with its consequences.
I really do think of Nine/Rose and Ten/Rose as two different eras in the same relationship. The emotional issues between Nine and Rose were far more openly acknowledged -- that is, they fought and challenged each other and changed each other, and it could be quite messy. Then she nearly died saving his life and he died so she wouldn't, and things became both easier and far less open. On one hand, they almost never fight anymore. On the other hand, they almost never fight anymore. They have a whole new host of problems (for the first time they acknowledge that their little tour across the stars will have an end, one day) and yet? No fighting. Instead, there's a distance that forms between them -- Mickey comes aboard, they stare at the same stars while years and lightyears apart, and Rose wanders into the gingerbread house, mouth watering. A definite distance, gone unacknowledged.
And then comes The Idiot's Lantern and everything's pretty much all right again. They still don't know how to talk about things (as proved by The Impossible Planet) but the tension has eased.
If you've read BBL, you have a pretty clear idea of my thoughts on these changes. The shift in their relationship from series one to series two isn't so much a matter of Ten being so different to Nine, but rather a natural consequence of how flippin' traumatic the regeneration and following disaster was for Rose. He died, and he left her on her own. And he came back, which was brilliant, but maybe it made her just a little hesitant. A little more careful of him. And what Rose did to save him, what that means, and how horrified she was by his new self ("And you, Rose Tyler, you gave up on me!") are all Big Scary Emotional Things for the Doctor. So, as close as they've become, they're not quite as open as they used to be. Not quite so young.
And...that sort of answers
salienne's other question about S1 Rose vs. S2 Rose. But not quite, so:It's all about the hair. No, seriously.
Series Two Rose has, I think deliberately, a look that separates her from the Estate and Mickey and her life before the Doctor. It says, "Yeah, that was me when I was young, but this is how my life is going to be from now on, and it requires short hair and nice slacks."
Hmm. Maybe not. Never mind.
kudzita asked for my thoughts on Josh/Donna vs. Doctor/Rose.These are, for all intents and purposes, My Ships. The only two I've ever written fic for, anyway. (I sort of wrote Jim/Pam once; it didn't really pan out.) For me (for most of us, I'd imagine), Josh/Donna was all about the banter. Banter is a beautiful thing -- when done well, it's a rhythm and a music that uses as many words as possible to dance around the obvious. He relied on her and she relied on him, and because of where they worked and how very much they loved it (and because they were both idiots) they could never quite manage to admit it.
Rose and the Doctor are all about the turn of the earth -- about the moment when you realize that there's so much more to the world than the ground beneath your feet. You're moving at incredible speeds, spinning, and it's a little like opening your eyes for the first time and a lot like losing control. Like Josh and Donna, the Doctor and Rose are about action, about participating in something greater than yourself because you choose to, because you love it. Josh and Donna had their words, their walk and talks; Rose and the Doctor run hand in hand.
(I just noticed that I've using the present tense for my active fandom and the perfect for my fandom of days gone by. Well, in the end, it is all about me.)
In both ships there's the age difference, the mentor/mentoree aspect to the relationship. Both Donna and Rose are blonde. Both dropped out of school when they were young for men who left them in debt. Both Josh and the Doctor have tragic pasts and egos so large they have their own gravitational pull. Donna and Rose follow, but they never do so blindly. Josh and the Doctor lead, but they trip over their own feet more often than not. Both Donna and Rose can be tempted by a man in uniform; Josh and the Doctor are occasionally ensorcelled by cultured, aggressive women. Donna had pet cats growing up; so did Rose. The Doctor is from an emotionally reserved alien culture; Josh is from New England.
The evidence is overwhelming: Josh/Donna and Doctor/Rose are, in truth, the same ship.
Look at how much we've learned today! I'm very pleased with our progress.
Moar questions?