You break the ice at parties, but I break down

[sovay]

My sleep schedule has deranged again. I fell asleep after six in the morning and had a series of vivid, complex dreams whose plots mostly did not survive the transition to waking. I dreamed of a contemporary version of Bagoas, wearing a necklace of ancient silver coins. One of them had his lover's profile stamped on it. Alexander was immortal, but there was something vampiric in it, like Tanith Lee's Scarabae. I dreamed of flooded catacombs or underground canals, receding into time. The building overhead was a movie theater, showing The Wizard of Oz (1939). There were boats tied up where the Somerville has the Museum of Bad Art. I dreamed of reading a novel or a series of novels written contemporaneously with Dorothy L. Sayers, frequently recommended to fans of Wimsey in the same vein as Margery Allingham's Campion, but I can remember nothing about the mysteries or the series detective, just a secondary character standing in a crowded room, looking around at the company with a tight, tensely blank expression on his face. He's just had something unforgivable said to his face; the reader doesn't yet know if it's true, which is a different question from whether it should have come out sneeringly at a party. Afterward one of the other guests referred to him as "poor Mr. Cornelius," the kind of pitying dismissal that made me feel for the character whether I was supposed to or not. I wish I could remember anything at all about the resolution of the book.

Last night with sairaali and M. was lovely. Saira had a recipe for sweet potato soup from Cook's Illustrated and my latest orthodontist's appointment has left me basically living on soup for the foreseeable future, so we made it with all the toppings—maple sour cream, mirin-sautéed mushrooms, cider-candied bacon, scallions instead of chives—and it was savory and filling and the special tip about soaking the sweet potato for twenty minutes in warm shallot-and-thyme broth did not in any way result in a thinner soup, but it was really delicious purée. Before dinner, I did a handstand with M.'s assistance and Saira's coaching, which marks the first time since elementary school. It was fun. The point at which my inner ear rotated upside down felt exactly like the horizon flip of a looping roller coaster. I would need much better upper body and core strength in order to manage it alone. After dinner, we watched the first two episodes of the third season of Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (2012–), which I enjoyed and am still sorting some of my reactions to, because stylistically it feels like a set of classically elaborate Golden Age mysteries taking place in a world with much more nuanced gender issues than Agatha Christie or Ngaio Marsh. I like the dynamic between Phryne and Jack, how even if he's not coping very well with her tendency to bang random dudes in the middle of investigations, it doesn't prevent him from working with her and he doesn't try to make her stop. Their unresolved sexual tension is visible from space. Does anyone here recommend the books? I'm aware of their existence, but have never read any.

Today I am not building a bonfire, because I don't live in the right countries for it. My mother traditionally celebrates Guy Fawkes by watching V for Vendetta (2005). Have a song about fire: Jill Tracy, "Make It Burn." I need to do some practical things with my afternoon.

Comments

[swan-tower.livejournal.com]

I'm not actually complaining, but an inadvertent side effect was to start off my understanding of Jack and Phryne's relationship with his amazing heartfelt half-seas-over speech, after sitting up for hours in her drawing room with his thoughts and too many martinis and her father's nerve tonic, about being "a liberal-minded man—maybe not as liberal-minded as you'd like me to be, or as much as I would like me to be—for you— But I don't want you to think I'm like all those other liberal-minded men . . . I'm not one of them and I never will be. Even if you want me to." Obviously that interested me.

I'm honestly not sure how the show will resolve that tension in the long run. Jack has not been set up as the kind of guy who would be okay with just a casual-sex relationship, so either he has to change his mentality or Phryne does -- and yet the show has repeatedly stressed the fact that neither of them is asking the other to change. I like the tension, but at the same time it's the sort of thing that, if left hanging for too long, starts to look cruel to me. Jack seems like he would want Phryne to settle down; if she isn't willing to do that (and she says outright at one point that she isn't), then she should just cut him loose, rather than letting him dangle while she goes through a string of other men in front of him.

That makes no sense to me. I understand what you're saying, and I'm not arguing with you, but I can't agree with it as a way to look at the world. Settling down with one or more people should be as valid an interpretation of the term as settling down with one full stop.

Oh, I agree. But in terms of what I think society at large is prepared to accept, I believe that "sleeping around until you find the Right One" is closer to the top of the list than "happily ever after with the Right Two or More." Hence why I imagine the show depicts a promiscuous Phryne in place of a poly one.

(I could be wrong, of course, about their reasoning. But it's the most likely explanation I see.)

So far I have seen one surviving half of a lesbian couple, and a gay couple who weren't, and no characters of color among the main cast, so I wanted to know.

The main cast is all white, yes, and contains only one queer person, though the socioeconomic spectrum is pretty good. But they do seem to have a mission statement to explore other aspects of '20s Australian society via the episodic plots, at least, and the treatment there is generally decent.

Edited to add: the show has also periodically dealt with the fact that this takes place after WWI, and more than a few of the characters were involved with the war in various capacities, leaving them with a variety of physical and psychological scars. Which pleases me.

[sovay]

Jack seems like he would want Phryne to settle down; if she isn't willing to do that (and she says outright at one point that she isn't), then she should just cut him loose, rather than letting him dangle while she goes through a string of other men in front of him.

I would actually respect a show that allowed its love interests to part regretfully on the grounds of genuine and affectionate incompatibility. In fiction, love generally conquers all; in real life, it's not all you need.

I would also be happy to see a show where the romantic ending is a committed open relationship—Jack as primary partner, which is qualitatively and practically different from being either a casual friend-with-benefits or the next random banged dude—but you may be right that either the writing or the network will not allow for it.

But in terms of what I think society at large is prepared to accept, I believe that "sleeping around until you find the Right One" is closer to the top of the list than "happily ever after with the Right Two or More."

I agree with your assessment of society and I believe that there are people who believe it. It still makes literally no sense to me. There are mythological concepts I understand more readily than contemporary sexual standards.

and contains only one queer person

The doctor?

Edited to add: the show has also periodically dealt with the fact that this takes place after WWI, and more than a few of the characters were involved with the war in various capacities, leaving them with a variety of physical and psychological scars. Which pleases me.

sairaali mentioned this is an element of Jack's backstory, and Phryne's as well. I also approve.