What the Thunder Said (Meta on the Doctor Falls and the Twelfth Doctor's era)
Alternative title: Why Moffat Who is Poetry
Welcome to the meta café! Although this time it's more The Poetry Café (not that there's ever much difference). What I mean is, this post is like a follow-up to The Hollow Men and will be formatted in a similar way: I.e. first up is the poem/imagery, which will then be followed by lengthy, complex and in ( Read more... )
Welcome to the meta café! Although this time it's more The Poetry Café (not that there's ever much difference). What I mean is, this post is like a follow-up to The Hollow Men and will be formatted in a similar way: I.e. first up is the poem/imagery, which will then be followed by lengthy, complex and in ( Read more... )
At some point the Nurse kneels beside him and traces his injuries through the torn, tattered clothes, wincing in sympathy.
Most of the damage has been done by internal bleeding -traumatic brain injury, probable aortic rupture, multiple rib fractures, blast lung, dislocated shoulder- but there are many visible cuts, bruises, and burns. Some hidden wound in the back of his right leg still bleeds down a dark trouser-leg, releasing small, pinkish clouds that quickly disperse in the water.
There is light gushing out of a small wound on the man’s forehead. He runs a hand through it, curiously, and points it out to his wife. She shrugs. They’ve seen weirder things.
(He doesn’t check for a pulse. Some things have no meaning here. If he takes a soot-stained hand with grazed knuckles in his own, it’s only with the hope that he may finally stir at the touch. And well, old habits and all that.)
The conversation gradually turns to other things. Philosophy, cooking. The Lady in Purple they found resting in the forest. Like him, she wouldn’t wake.
The most curious thing of all is a very thin golden rope that’s wound tightly around his right palm. It passes over his clenched fingers and disappears into the sea. Some tug at it experimentally, to no avail.
Eventually, the Lady in White and Gold kisses his forehead and stands up.
“Not yet. It’s not his time. There is one more thing that he must do.”
(A few, like the Teachers, are reluctant to leave him and protest, but there really isn’t anything else any of them can do.)
One by one, they withdraw, and the water rises and takes him away again.
Carry me to the cypress woods and dig my grave where violets
And poppies grow not in the other's shadow;
Let my grave be deep so that the flood will not
Carry my bones to the open valley;
Let my grace be wide, so that the twilight shadows
Will come and sit by me.
He hears the fragmented echoes calling his name.
“Doctor!”
They sleep in my mind and I forget. I have to really want to, to bring them back in front of my eyes.
Cover me with soft earth, and let each handful be mixed
With seeds of jasmine, lilies and myrtle; and when they
Grow above me, and thrive on my body's element they will
Breathe the fragrance of my heart into space;
And reveal even to the sun the secret of my peace;
And sail with the breeze and comfort the wayfarer.
.
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Something has changed, though he is still unmoving, quickly, almost miraculously dry, and dressed in singed rags.
He somehow appears lighter. There is a soft glow about him, like the entire place is rubbing off on him. Now, he really looks like he could be sneaking a few hours of sleep in his TARDIS, when nobody was watching; not a sad, broken thing.
The golden thread is gone from his hand. As they sit beside him, they notice thin bruises across his palm, marking the passing of the fire.
(There is a murmur that quickly dies down to patient, quiet sympathy.)
Time goes on, in tiny, soft flakes that fall in the rhythm of the wave.
At some point his previous self gets bored, sits companionably, cross-legged near the older one’s shins, picks up some peddles and unsuccessfully tries skipping them.
Someone brings out a sonic screwdriver. Two others set up a chessboard nearby and continue an unfinished game, while their companions offer whispered suggestions.
Clara Oswald starts playing with his hair.
“You’re so fluffy.”
(Jack laughs at that, then takes off his greatcoat and thoughtfully drapes it over the motionless Time Lord).
“Um, should we?...” he asks the rest after a while, uncertainly. He is still a bit unsure on this whole dying bit. The impressive blonde lady whom the Doctor apparently married (!) shakes her head.
“Leave him rest a while, he’s been through a lot”.
But when she moves her hand into his, his fingers curl ever so slightly over her palm, and she smiles.
Go back to the joy of your dwellings and you will find there
That which Death cannot remove from you and me.
Leave with peace, for what you see here is far away in meaning
From the earthly world.
-the end-
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Not that you need me to tell you, but I sort of read it almost in a daze. No, like it's music?
Mostly, thank you for sharing, and I'll go tell Proton. ♥
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I consider myself first and foremost a poet, so I suppose it tends to bleed through ;) Daz-ing! Music! Although with some, like this one, it's often deliberate because of the style or the subject.
And I knew that the more poetic it was, the more you'd enjoy it! Any favourite bits?
You're welcome! And thanks, because LJ, I'm trying, but how do comments work? (sigh) I hope she likes it.
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Can only say that is a good thing, it's beautiful. ♥
Sorry I've been so slow replying, been decorating a bedroom this past week, brain has been frazzled. Will try to poke Proton & reply properly.
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The poetry is beautiful and I find I can't really say much about it, sorry. It just sort of *is*.
Where is the joyful, elegant animation, the mad, energetic chaos that dances across all time?
This struck me especially, because Twelve was always so old and tired. Not that he couldn't be energetic, but there was always a sense of it being a last hurrah. He wanted rest.
The most curious thing of all is a very thin golden rope that’s wound tightly around his right palm. It passes over his clenched fingers and disappears into the sea. Some tug at it experimentally, to no avail.
A lifeline? It turns to a golden glow later, so yes?
Eventually, the Lady in White and Gold kisses his forehead and stands up.
This is the only one I can't place. Who is she?
He hears the fragmented echoes calling his name.
I love the fact that he can hear them, however faintly.
At some point his previous self gets bored, sits companionably, cross-legged near the older one’s shins, picks up some peddles and unsuccessfully tries skipping them. Someone brings out a sonic screwdriver. Two others set up a chessboard nearby and continue an unfinished game, while their companions offer whispered suggestions.
All this is perfect. <3
Only Clara and Jack are named. Is there a reason for this?
But when she moves her hand into his, his fingers curl ever so slightly over her palm, and she smiles.
♥
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Well, that’s one hell of a compliment!
The poetry is beautiful and I find I can't really say much about it, sorry. It just sort of *is*.
The poetry is by Khalil Gibran, not me -though I have also written much of that if you’re interested. Credit where credit’s due. Unless of course you’re referring to the general … poetic-ness of the fic, style, structure, etc. Or both?
This struck me especially, because Twelve was always so old and tired. Not that he couldn't be energetic, but there was always a sense of it being a last hurrah. He wanted rest.
I mean, that’s mainly what inspired this. Throughout the finale, I just wanted to bring the man a blanket and some hot chocolate, and sit by in sympathy going "there, there". That is some serious, very-well conveyed exhaustion! I’m thinking Al Pacino at the end of Insomnia, or Hugh Jackman in Logan. (Behold, the Trifecta of Very Tired Blokes! What else do they have in common? Oh, they all die!)
I don’t even think it’s an age thing, the 12th Doctor just has a great “oh not again, so done with this shit” face; he is the one who conveys tiredness the best. When it comes to Being Miserable, Ten’s domain is physical pain. Eleven’s is emotional suffering (and guilt). Twelve’s is exhaustion.
A lifeline?
Something like that, yes. In fact, I initially considered including many other weird, surreal, symbolic details. For instance, I thought of having Twelve somehow bearing every physical and emotional wound of his entire run but a) he’d look like he’d been barbequed, and b) it would be difficult to convey the meaning to the reader.
This is the only one I can't place. Who is she?
Well, this is me going all End of Time on you all. Like, is it Susan, his wife, his mum?!... If RTD can do it, so can I. Apart from the fact that I enjoy being vague and poetic in general, I wanted it to be ambiguous enough for other interpretations to be applicable. But I wrote it to be River, who was symbolically the first in Who to ascend to divinity let’s say, the first NuWho companion to die (yeah, okay, I know, I have to call her something, let’s not split hairs here), and also has this “higher knowledge” motif going on. Meta, meta, meta! If you notice, her ghost outfit is white and gold. With an occasional emphasis on white, depending on the lighting, but in that case we’ve got the hair!
I love the fact that he can hear them, however faintly.
We have that lovely scene in TDF; and I know they’re referencing Five, but Two’s quote came to mind and I had to use it.
All this is perfect.
<3 <3 <3
Only Clara and Jack are named. Is there a reason for this?
Well, if you notice, they’re only named in the last part. Apart from my aforementioned love for vague poetic-ness, I follow Twelve’s hypothetical point of view. And at first, there are no names, they are conveyed as functions, symbols, and descriptions, because he’s still alive. So yes, naming them in the end is a conscious choice to show the change, the truer presence and communication. Now, there is no reason for Clara and Jack *specifically*. I mean, I could have also named River or Eleven, but I like my descriptions. And besides, it’s pretty obvious.
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:)
The poetry is by Khalil Gibran, not me -though I have also written much of that if you’re interested. Credit where credit’s due. Unless of course you’re referring to the general … poetic-ness of the fic, style, structure, etc. Or both?
Well, mostly the poetry itself, but could certainly apply to both. The prose is very poetic.
I mean, that’s mainly what inspired this. Throughout the finale, I just wanted to bring the man a blanket and some hot chocolate, and sit by in sympathy going "there, there". That is some serious, very-well conveyed exhaustion!
And now you have reminded me of Ten's goodbyes and STRUGGLING ALONG and I just want to tell him to hurry up, because he'll feel SO MUCH BETTER soon. (Question because I do not remember: Have you read the book of The Day of the Doctor? If not, then... I shan't spoil you.)
I don’t even think it’s an age thing, the 12th Doctor just has a great “oh not again, so done with this shit” face; he is the one who conveys tiredness the best. When it comes to Being Miserable, Ten’s domain is physical pain. Eleven’s is emotional suffering (and guilt). Twelve’s is exhaustion.
Unkindly, I'd say Ten's in man!pain. Eleven's I'd say is more contained, but Ten's just sort of drowns everything. This is re. Wesley from Angel, but it fits Ten to a T (I have probably brought this up before, apologies for repetition):
"I can't believe I forgot how Denisof as Wesley can stand there and exude pain. It's like a superpower."
From Meta: Why Ten is like Wesley.
(And then because I wanted to find that post, I searched on my Ten tag which brought up many other things, including: The Hollow Men which was the first time I did the 'Eliot Poem w/images' and is my basically my final word on Ten and I wondered if you'd come across it. It is... 6 years old! So a) no rush and b) no worries if you're not interested.)
a) he’d look like he’d been barbequed, and b) it would be difficult to convey the meaning to the reader.
LOL
Well, this is me going all End of Time on you all. Like, is it Susan, his wife, his mum?!... If RTD can do it, so can I.
In the commentary thing, RTD was all 'Of COURSE it's his mum!' - which I ignore because a) I much prefer it to be Susan, b) If his mother was human, there is NO WAY she'd be on Gallifrey and c) WHY WAS HE IN AN ORPHANAGE???
But I wrote it to be River, who was symbolically the first in Who to ascend to divinity let’s say, the first NuWho companion to die (yeah, okay, I know, I have to call her something, let’s not split hairs here), and also has this “higher knowledge” motif going on. Meta, meta, meta! If you notice, her ghost outfit is white and gold. With an occasional emphasis on white, depending on the lighting, but in that case we’ve got the hair!
Thank you! ♥
We have that lovely scene in TDF; and I know they’re referencing Five, but Two’s quote came to mind and I had to use it.
Remind me? It's (sadly) been at least half a year since I last watched TDF, so am feeling rusty.
So yes, naming them in the end is a conscious choice to show the change, the truer presence and communication.
That makes sense, thank you. :)
And besides, it’s pretty obvious.
Very true!!
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I was ready to offer you examples of *my* poetry, but then I realised you’ve seen To A Coy Transman ;)
Question because I do not remember: Have you read the book of The Day of the Doctor? If not, then... I shan't spoil you.
No, I have not. But I will at some point, because someone mentioned the incredible detail about the first two Doctors being colourblind; and that is such a stroke of simultaneous genius and hilarity, I just had to put it on the list.
Unkindly, I'd say Ten's is man!pain
LOL. Yes, it is. The Lonely Angel Storm at the Oncoming Fire of the Universe! (I will never get over this quote).
Okay, that was a bad choice of words. Yes, in-universe, Ten is a mess in all fronts; but I was thinking more of an… acting perspective, like Tennant vs. Smith vs. Capaldi, biggest strengths in this area. The way each one generates the greatest amount of sympathy for his Doctor.
This is re. Wesley from Angel, but it fits Ten to a T (I have probably brought this up before, apologies for repetition)
Yep, you have, but it’s perfect :)
I searched on my Ten tag which brought up many other things, including: The Hollow Men which was the first time I did the 'Eliot Poem w/images' and is my basically my final word on Ten and I wondered if you'd come across it.
Of course I have! Hence one of my shout-outs in the Reverse Fantasia!
(“The Doctor Dances”: Evey Reborn, Dario Marianelli. / The first time in which Moffat and the universe take pity, and Everybody Lives. A moment of grace and redemption achieved through tremendous suffering and struggle, while also containing the promise of further redemption, since it foreshadows The Day of the Doctor. Two moments connected in time like the juxtaposition of Evey’s and V’s rebirth. Also, shoutout to elisi for Nine as Guy Fawkes.)
Will reread and probably comment at some point.
Remind me? It's (sadly) been at least half a year since I last watched TDF, so am feeling rusty.
Oh, you know, after Bill and Heather leave him in the TARDIS and we have the Memory Lane Montage of his companions.
I put that bit in to ground the reader in the timeline. Like yes, this is what’s happening in the metaphysical plane-space-thing, because he’s in-between at this point. Sorry, not yet, let’s leave, etc. Meanwhile, in the Tardis. This is how he perceives it. He wakes up, Twice Upon A Time happens, then final scene.
OH MY GOD.
Speaking of TDF, I just realised!
The action takes place in floor 507! In The Sarah Jane Adventures’ “Death of the Doctor”:
CLYDE: And is there a limit? How many times can you change?
DOCTOR: Five hundred and seven.
(Also, 5+0+7=12, everyone.)
Moffat, you Magnificent Bastard, I read your book!
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Yes. <3
No, I have not. But I will at some point, because someone mentioned the incredible detail about the first two Doctors being colourblind; and that is such a stroke of simultaneous genius and hilarity, I just had to put it on the list.
That is... a throwaway line. A tiny, insignificant (if brilliant) detail amongst the cornucopia of delights. I have now read it four times and... *hands* It is a single day which takes place over four hundred years to the Doctor at several different points. No, I can't even begin to describe it. But it is more *the Doctor* than anything else I have ever come across. If I had to choose between the TV episode and the book... I might just choose the book. TV has visuals - but the book gives us what is actually going through the Doctor's head (all of him, at all the different times). And that's even without mentioning Osgood...
Also it is very very funny. Actually 'simultaneous genius and hilarity' is a pretty apt description. (I am physically forcing myself not to quite stuff at you, but in short, you should read it! Like, now or sooner. Unless of course actual life is getting in the way.)
LOL. Yes, it is. The Lonely Angel Storm at the Oncoming Fire of the Universe! (I will never get over this quote).
I had forgotten that! Thank you for reminding me. <333
but I was thinking more of an… acting perspective, like Tennant vs. Smith vs. Capaldi, biggest strengths in this area. The way each one generates the greatest amount of sympathy for his Doctor.
*seals lips* Once you have read DotD you'll understand why. Although yes, wrt physical pain.
Yep, you have, but it’s perfect :)
All my stories are old now.
Of course I have! Hence one of my shout-outs in the Reverse Fantasia!
!! Must have glanced over that, sorry. Or just forgotten.
Will reread and probably comment at some point.
No worries, I just couldn't keep track.
Oh, you know, after Bill and Heather leave him in the TARDIS and we have the Memory Lane Montage of his companions.
Oh yes.
(Also, 5+0+7=12, everyone.)
You would LOVE Buffy. Just saying.
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And you know, non-Who stuff I need to watch/read. And life. (sigh)
This is how we end up in all these “I am re-watching this movie/show/rereading this book and I feel terribly guilty, because how *dare* I redo something, when there’s all this *new* stuff that needs doing!” situations.
But hey, I *had* to show Fury Road to the sis -and watch it for a third time in the process. No regrets there, I’m calling it my duty of care as the older sibling.
I had forgotten that! Thank you for reminding me. <333
Hey, there’s a reason I chose Philip Glass’s “Pruit Igoe” for The Waters of Mars. Listen to it! He’s a beautiful disaster.
Once you have read DotD you'll understand why. Although yes, wrt physical pain.
But Eleven being sad! Like, I can take Ten being sad, hell, you get used to Ten being sad. And yes, it is very intense. But emotionally compromised Eleven -I would say perhaps *precisely* because he isn’t drowning, because he is usually better at hiding it than Ten is- is physically painful to watch, like get that screen away from me.
I should have phrased my original statement as: “10 vs. 11 vs. 12. What does each Doctor need to do for one to go “oh God, I can’t watch this!” -and then continue watching anyway because he does it so perfectly?”
!! Must have glanced over that, sorry. Or just forgotten.
I’ve also called Nine’s chapter in Mr. Sandman, Bring Me Your Screams “A Penny for the Old Guy”! Okay, that doesn’t necessarily say much, all chapters have awesomely pretentious titles, that’s kind of my thing; but still ;)
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Or in this case... The story, re-written. Literally. Yes the major parts are the same, and yet. AH WELL. You will understand once you get that far.
And you know, non-Who stuff I need to watch/read. And life. (sigh)
Aye. I know the feeling.
But hey, I *had* to show Fury Road to the sis -and watch it for a third time in the process. No regrets there, I’m calling it my duty of care as the older sibling.
Mad Max: Fury Road, I presume? (Is there another? /rhetorical question) And I agree 100% - it is a truly amazing film.
But Eleven being sad! Like, I can take Ten being sad, hell, you get used to Ten being sad. And yes, it is very intense. But emotionally compromised Eleven -I would say perhaps *precisely* because he isn’t drowning, because he is usually better at hiding it than Ten is- is physically painful to watch, like get that screen away from me.
Oh I am not disagreeing. Eleven is my Doctor, partly for that reason.
I’ve also called Nine’s chapter in Mr. Sandman, Bring Me Your Screams “A Penny for the Old Guy”! Okay, that doesn’t necessarily say much, all chapters have awesomely pretentious titles, that’s kind of my thing; but still ;)
I say we all aspire to awesome pretension!
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I'd originally watched Mad Max: Fury Road in the cinema with some friends, and we all loved it.
The very next day, there was a water outage in our area; because sometimes the universe is an incredibly funny place and/or has a great sense of humour.
So, since great minds think alike, we all naturally spent the entire day on Facebook posting gifs and screaming in caps lock quotes at each other :)
My personal favourite is: "I am the Scales of Justice, Conductor of the choir of death!"
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Have to side with Elisi here: it is so much more than just a novelization. Though you have my complete sympathy in the 'so much to watch and also rewatch!' thing.
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The tv episode is like a 2D painting.
The book makes it 3D.
:)
ETA: For our Lurker's benefit, I feel I should also point out that I have now read it four times.
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