I'm not letting _anyone_ borrow the Dogtor tomorrow...
There have been a lot of really beautiful things said by The Doctor as he is preparing to undergo/in the process of/recuperating from regeneration, and all of them have been absolutely perfect for the particular Doctor who said them. Right at the top of that list should be added (spoiler-proofed in case you don't want to read a line from "End of Time Part One"):
"Even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away. And I'm dead."*
My relationship with The Doctor has been well documented, particularly so with his Tenth incarnation. I needn't ramble on about how much I adore him, how much I am going to miss him, how much I don't want to see this final chapter in his life, which I have been dreading for three years now. In a way, I would have preferred having him die in "The Stolen Earth," as all this dragging it out has paradoxically deadened the blow and made all of the specials acutely, painfully precious. I have spent the better part of a year intentionally putting The Doctor out of mind because it's just too painful to think about him.
Because, as many times as I've been through this - eight times, every one of them wrenching in its own way - I've never lost My Doctor before. He hasn't been The Doctor for the whole of my familiarity with the show, but he has been for the whole of my inDoctrination. He's not even remotely all I've known, but he's always been there. There's always been more Ten waiting for me. It was okay that I saw the last of the Davison Era because there was more Tennant; okay when I finished "The Two Doctors" and the finality of Troughton's death became a reality for me because Tennant was still very much alive, still very much driven by a need to honour the show he has loved since childhood. But there's no one to make it okay, no one to fall back on for comfort now that Tennant is gone.
Matt Smith was born after Davison had already been The Doctor for a year. He was barely seven when the original series ended. I don't know anything at all about the man beyond his birthday and a general idea of what he looks like, so it's entirely possible that he grew up watching taped episodes of the show every night before bed. But he just can't have had the same relationship with the show that Tennant did; he can't have made an event of watching new episodes and chatting with his friends about them the next morning and all that. It's not his fault, and I'm not at all trying to insinuate that it will mar his performance (after all, there have been nine other actors who have been fantastically brilliant in the role who didn't write grade school papers about wanting to be The Doctor when they grew up**). But I haven't the slightest doubt in my mind that what made Ten so special, what made him My Doctor, was that Tennant believes in the role. The Doctor is not just a character to Tennant, he's a hero in every sense, and Tennant thankfully has talent to match his boundless enthusiasm, so he can make the audience believe it, too, in a way that no one had done since the actor who had been in the role for a year before his birth.
One of my very favourite things about watching the classic serials has been discovering just how original Ten isn't...which sounds an odd thing to say, until you understand what it means. More than ever before, in his tenth incarnation, The Doctor is the sum of all he has been, all he is.
He's an unrepentant hypocrite when it comes to meddling with history, convinced even as he preaches preservation of the Laws of Time that he can bend them, just a little; convinced that he can control it.
He's a dangerously adorable sweetheart with an incredible enthusiasm for life and an astounding capacity for forgiveness, especially when it comes to his friends.
He's distrustful of authority, but has a soft spot for anyone who can work within a military organization while thinking for hirself and can and will fence you into a corner while lecturing on mercy and non-violence.
He's a total gooney bird with silly hair and the most charming mannerisms, but he can go from daft to deadly serious in half a micro-instant.
He's got a tendency to keep people at a distance, despite his warm, friendly nature with everyone he meets, and he feels there is just as much purpose to his life as there is adventure.
He's terrifyingly temperamental at times, alarmingly arrogant, and recklessly bombastic***...but he's so very, very cuddly and forms the strongest Companion relationships you could hope for.
He's got a knack for physical comedy - broad or subtle - and his sweet, quiet smile shouldn't at all make you think he's not sly as all hells.
He's a happy maniac, full of non-sequitors-that-actually-aren't and romance and half-truths and tragedy.
He's lonely and hurt and trying his hardest to atone and to find his way again, but never so broody as to miss an opportunity for a joke about bananas.
So, you see, it's not just Ten dying; One through Nine are dying all over again, right before my eyes. I've got four years' worth of Ten that I can watch any time, two animated adventures I haven't seen yet, and I don't think for a moment there won't be Big Finish adventures and multi-Doctor specials in Tennant's future. But the fact that I just started crying, actually crying, over him simply saying "Oh. Ohh...!" in "Partners in Crime" proves that it doesn't matter right now. None of it matters. Because that was then, and that will be then, and this is now and My Doctor is dying.
I am about to watch My Doctor die.
But not tonight, because today has been ABSOLUTE SHITE, and I refuse. I will not cap off my shitty day with that. "Christmas Invasion"? Yes. "The End of Time Part Two"? Not on The Tenth Doctor's brilliant life.
* My comment before about Ten being "the most suicidal" is not challenged by this line. I didn't actually mean that he is suicidal, just that he is more so than any previous Doctor. But he's still The Doctor. I never meant suicidal in the depressed, wrist-slitting sort of way, just that he is aware of what is coming, is resigned to the fate even if he's going to fight it, and on some level believes he deserves it.
** Again, I don't necessarily believe this story actually happened, but it's the kind of story that doesn't have to have happened to be true. ("Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot," as the Sandman says.)
*** The lack of parallelism here only doesn't bother me because it was a complete and utter accident that the first two were alliterative.
And Ted's wearing tweed. Better than kevlar!
"Even if I change, it feels like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man goes sauntering away. And I'm dead."*
My relationship with The Doctor has been well documented, particularly so with his Tenth incarnation. I needn't ramble on about how much I adore him, how much I am going to miss him, how much I don't want to see this final chapter in his life, which I have been dreading for three years now. In a way, I would have preferred having him die in "The Stolen Earth," as all this dragging it out has paradoxically deadened the blow and made all of the specials acutely, painfully precious. I have spent the better part of a year intentionally putting The Doctor out of mind because it's just too painful to think about him.
Because, as many times as I've been through this - eight times, every one of them wrenching in its own way - I've never lost My Doctor before. He hasn't been The Doctor for the whole of my familiarity with the show, but he has been for the whole of my inDoctrination. He's not even remotely all I've known, but he's always been there. There's always been more Ten waiting for me. It was okay that I saw the last of the Davison Era because there was more Tennant; okay when I finished "The Two Doctors" and the finality of Troughton's death became a reality for me because Tennant was still very much alive, still very much driven by a need to honour the show he has loved since childhood. But there's no one to make it okay, no one to fall back on for comfort now that Tennant is gone.
Matt Smith was born after Davison had already been The Doctor for a year. He was barely seven when the original series ended. I don't know anything at all about the man beyond his birthday and a general idea of what he looks like, so it's entirely possible that he grew up watching taped episodes of the show every night before bed. But he just can't have had the same relationship with the show that Tennant did; he can't have made an event of watching new episodes and chatting with his friends about them the next morning and all that. It's not his fault, and I'm not at all trying to insinuate that it will mar his performance (after all, there have been nine other actors who have been fantastically brilliant in the role who didn't write grade school papers about wanting to be The Doctor when they grew up**). But I haven't the slightest doubt in my mind that what made Ten so special, what made him My Doctor, was that Tennant believes in the role. The Doctor is not just a character to Tennant, he's a hero in every sense, and Tennant thankfully has talent to match his boundless enthusiasm, so he can make the audience believe it, too, in a way that no one had done since the actor who had been in the role for a year before his birth.
One of my very favourite things about watching the classic serials has been discovering just how original Ten isn't...which sounds an odd thing to say, until you understand what it means. More than ever before, in his tenth incarnation, The Doctor is the sum of all he has been, all he is.
He's an unrepentant hypocrite when it comes to meddling with history, convinced even as he preaches preservation of the Laws of Time that he can bend them, just a little; convinced that he can control it.
He's a dangerously adorable sweetheart with an incredible enthusiasm for life and an astounding capacity for forgiveness, especially when it comes to his friends.
He's distrustful of authority, but has a soft spot for anyone who can work within a military organization while thinking for hirself and can and will fence you into a corner while lecturing on mercy and non-violence.
He's a total gooney bird with silly hair and the most charming mannerisms, but he can go from daft to deadly serious in half a micro-instant.
He's got a tendency to keep people at a distance, despite his warm, friendly nature with everyone he meets, and he feels there is just as much purpose to his life as there is adventure.
He's terrifyingly temperamental at times, alarmingly arrogant, and recklessly bombastic***...but he's so very, very cuddly and forms the strongest Companion relationships you could hope for.
He's got a knack for physical comedy - broad or subtle - and his sweet, quiet smile shouldn't at all make you think he's not sly as all hells.
He's a happy maniac, full of non-sequitors-that-actually-aren't and romance and half-truths and tragedy.
He's lonely and hurt and trying his hardest to atone and to find his way again, but never so broody as to miss an opportunity for a joke about bananas.
So, you see, it's not just Ten dying; One through Nine are dying all over again, right before my eyes. I've got four years' worth of Ten that I can watch any time, two animated adventures I haven't seen yet, and I don't think for a moment there won't be Big Finish adventures and multi-Doctor specials in Tennant's future. But the fact that I just started crying, actually crying, over him simply saying "Oh. Ohh...!" in "Partners in Crime" proves that it doesn't matter right now. None of it matters. Because that was then, and that will be then, and this is now and My Doctor is dying.
I am about to watch My Doctor die.
But not tonight, because today has been ABSOLUTE SHITE, and I refuse. I will not cap off my shitty day with that. "Christmas Invasion"? Yes. "The End of Time Part Two"? Not on The Tenth Doctor's brilliant life.
* My comment before about Ten being "the most suicidal" is not challenged by this line. I didn't actually mean that he is suicidal, just that he is more so than any previous Doctor. But he's still The Doctor. I never meant suicidal in the depressed, wrist-slitting sort of way, just that he is aware of what is coming, is resigned to the fate even if he's going to fight it, and on some level believes he deserves it.
** Again, I don't necessarily believe this story actually happened, but it's the kind of story that doesn't have to have happened to be true. ("Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot," as the Sandman says.)
*** The lack of parallelism here only doesn't bother me because it was a complete and utter accident that the first two were alliterative.
And Ted's wearing tweed. Better than kevlar!