100 Things, Week 36: The Lizzie Bennet Diaries
The weekend started so well. But then Cloud had a panic attack during cat therapy, which escalated within about two tenths of a second to a knock-down-drag-out fight with Sephiroth, which is going to set us back at least a few weeks in the reintegration process.
::sigh and sadface::
Let's talk about happier things.
100 Things Blogging Challenge, Week 36: The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (Hank Green/Bernie Su, 2012-2013).
It's not easy to make a good piece of metafiction, wherein the media nature of the work is part of the work itself. In my own experience trying it, that level of literary self-awareness requires a rock-solid foundational understanding of the plot you're creating before ever setting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard in order to express the immersive experience to the audience. The experiment with a story-as-webpresence perpetrated by several of my friends and I crashed and burned very, very quickly -- I think because we jumped into it thinking we could make up the story as we went along in the same way that we'd write a normal linear story in a normal linear fashion. Not so much. Being able to orchestrate an internet full of media in a coherent, time-linked fashion on a schedule that allows the viewers to really engage with the process requires the same things as an actual orchestra: a clear plan for what will happen and when (like an orchestra's score), a set of people who've trained for those actions (like the well rehearsed players), and someone keeping an eye on everything and setting a schedule (like the conductor keeps the tempo). It's a commitment that, knowing what I now know, I apologize to the internet for having underestimated. So, with that knowledge, I look at what The Lizzie Bennet Diaries has accomplished, and I am in awe. Honest-to-goodness, jaw-dropping awe. They did have a clear plan for what would happen and when -- they had the concept to adapt Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice into a modern American story about Lizzie Bennet, the mass communications grad student whose family vlogs their way to infamy (and she into the heart of Pemberley Digital CEO, William Darcy). The people creating this, as a series of interlinked vlogs, tweets, Tumblr messages, webpages, and you-name-it, are among the most respected names in the vlogging community, and both their expertise with the medium and their understanding of the story combine to make this a truly extraordinary achievement. And entertaining and adorable to boot!
What sets this apart from a standard Twitter novel or YouTube serial is the fact that the viewer is part of the fictional world where this takes place. You, the viewer, are watching Lizzie Bennet's vlog, watching this melodrama about her sisters' and her own love lives, education, financial security, and choices for happiness play out. The vlogs, however, are something that the fictional Lizzie has created, and which the other characters in the world watch (or don't watch) as elements of the plot. The main videos on Lizzie's channel interlink with videos on her younger sister Lydia's own YouTube channel, where the confessionals are appropriately less professional-looking and more sensationalistic. Characters tweet within the series on Twitter accounts you, the viewer, can follow -- and more importantly, the viewers can interact with. Questions may be acknowledged or answered when you send to the characters on Twitter, YouTube, Google+, Tumblr, or wherever Lizzie, Jane, Lydia, Darcy, Bing Lee (Austen's Bingley), Charlotte Lu (Austen's Charlotte Lewis), or other characters may be found. Even Kitty Bennet has a Twitter account, despite the fact that she's been adapted into a cat. Following the fictional characters online has the same feel as following a friend on all your social media outlets, except that when all the puzzle pieces fall together, you're getting a sharp and tightly woven adaptation of one of the Western tradition's most famous novels that talks back to you. The production team has done a flawless job interpreting the essence of the story into a modern context, and using the nature of new social media as well as its established norms to enhance their storytelling. Crisp, well-edited videos in clear resolution from the grad students majoring in communications, or from videos produced by the "Collins & Collins" or "Pemberley Digital" companies show the kind of filming technology the crew has available, but it's clear that Lydia wouldn't be using the latest cameras or know how to use editing software -- and true to character, her YouTube channel features largely unedited videos filmed at arm's length using a telephone, but the raw quality is part of her character, not a minus.
That level of thought has gone into creating the modern lives of every single character within the books, and the solutions this creative staff has put forward for all the problems of relating a Regency romance to the modern day are remarkably savvy. For example, it's simply not as socially acceptable anymore for a young lady in dire financial straits to marry into a well-provided lifestyle in the way that it was, indeed, one of the only respectable things that Charlotte Lewis could have done. Translating the mercenary yet socially very respectable decision to marry Mr. Collins into the modern day, this adaptation shows Charlotte Lu forgoing her last year of grad school and the chance to look for a dream career in favor of taking a partnership at the very corporate, very commercial Collins & Collins web video firm (backed, of course, by the extraordinary venture capitalist Catherine de Bourgh and her little dog Annie Kins). Lizzie views the decision to sign on to make "corporate videos and bad reality TV!" instead of following her dreams to be selling out, and beneath Charlotte (having already turned down Ricky Collins's offer because she thought it was beneath her own dignity), but Charlotte considers it sensible, and in the modern day it's entirely as understandable and respectable as would be the Regency era decision for a lady of somewhat gentle status but very few means to marry a man she doesn't love simply because he can support her. It's easy to respect both Lizzie's decision and Charlotte's, and the series of videos covering their fight over the decision and their eventual reconciliation are very emotional to watch. Far more than in the original book or in most standard adaptations of Pride and Prejudice, Charlotte feels like a fleshed-out person who makes understandable decisions and with whom the audience can connect on a level equivalent to the one where we connect with Lizzie.
Even more impressive, it's possible to connect with Jane, Lydia, Mary, and a host of other secondary characters who are at best caricatures and at worst non-entities within the original story. Jane, the perfect, kind older sister who's always likable and just naturally unbelievably sweet, shows up on camera and makes the viewer care about her fairy tale romance with Bing Lee, and makes you feel her pain when he leaves without a single word. The character of Fitzwilliam (not Darcy, the other Fitzwilliam) barely registers on most reading radars, seeming to exist purely for the moment when he reveals to Lizzie unknowingly that Darcy was the one who convinced Bing(ley) to leave Jane. In these videos, he's a fun, easygoing fellow who seems to have a place in Darcy's world and makes a real emotional connection with the audience, and left me practically in a panic as I hoped that fictional "Jane" really was as busy as Lizzie said and wouldn't have a chance to watch that vlog without warning. Mary's rebirth as a studious but deeply feeling goth cousin is infinitely more sympathetic than the sanctimonious sister in the book. They all have personalities beyond their function in the story that are human enough to make me care about what happens to them (something I can't claim I did when reading the original). Most impressive of all, perhaps, is Lydia Bennet -- THE Ly-dee-a, as she calls herself -- who has transformed from a generally unsympathetic airhead who runs off to have her reputation ruined by a rake (and never seems to notice anything isn't as it should be) into an incredibly sympathetic airhead who legitimately pushes her wild and crazy, devil-may-care attitude into life as a YouTube darling. Real, heart-wrenching emotional distance from her family drives her into the ruinous arms of George Wickham (dubbed "Dickham" by the internet, in classic style).
I never would have believed it was possible for anyone to care enough about Lydia to want something better for her than Wickham (except in the sense that any person deserves better than Wickham), but as adorable as they've made this little redhead and as horrible as they've made Wickham's behavior, I happily join the throngs of internet denizens who've declared that this version of the story is not allowed to end up like the book where Lydia is concerned. However her reputation gets saved, she deserves better than to be tied to that jerkwad (can't think of a word harsh enough for the character's behavior as depicted in this series, which I believe has been used as the basis for tutorials on how to identify an emotionally abusive boyfriend with whom you need to break up for the sake of your mental health). I'm pretty sure if they stay together, there will be blood. I credit the adaptors' decision to give Lydia, as well as other appropriate characters, a narrative voice of her own. The chance to see this character from her own, human perspective changed my perception of the story as well as the perception of countless other viewers. In many ways, this entire presentation (which is not finished, and I'm on the edge of my seat to see what they do with the ending) acts as an object lesson in perception. In its original incarnation, Pride and Prejudice was a powerful story about how we see people in society, how we are seen by others, and how "the truth" may not be exactly different from what you perceive but is certainly a lot more complicated than can be fairly judged at first glance from a single perspective. The original Miss Elizabeth Bennet learns this, as does the original Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, by confronting each other with undeniable views that are not complimentary to their first impressions. This Lizzie Bennet and William Darcy have to do the same thing -- as the actors said in an interview, the wonderful thing about these characters is the way they make each other better. Here, by multiplying the perspectives from which we see the story, the complicated nature of truth and how it differently affects different people gets a new and poignant additional dimension.
This entry was originally posted at http://psiten.dreamwidth.org/102586.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
::sigh and sadface::
Let's talk about happier things.
100 Things Blogging Challenge, Week 36: The Lizzie Bennet Diaries (Hank Green/Bernie Su, 2012-2013).
It's not easy to make a good piece of metafiction, wherein the media nature of the work is part of the work itself. In my own experience trying it, that level of literary self-awareness requires a rock-solid foundational understanding of the plot you're creating before ever setting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard in order to express the immersive experience to the audience. The experiment with a story-as-webpresence perpetrated by several of my friends and I crashed and burned very, very quickly -- I think because we jumped into it thinking we could make up the story as we went along in the same way that we'd write a normal linear story in a normal linear fashion. Not so much. Being able to orchestrate an internet full of media in a coherent, time-linked fashion on a schedule that allows the viewers to really engage with the process requires the same things as an actual orchestra: a clear plan for what will happen and when (like an orchestra's score), a set of people who've trained for those actions (like the well rehearsed players), and someone keeping an eye on everything and setting a schedule (like the conductor keeps the tempo). It's a commitment that, knowing what I now know, I apologize to the internet for having underestimated. So, with that knowledge, I look at what The Lizzie Bennet Diaries has accomplished, and I am in awe. Honest-to-goodness, jaw-dropping awe. They did have a clear plan for what would happen and when -- they had the concept to adapt Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice into a modern American story about Lizzie Bennet, the mass communications grad student whose family vlogs their way to infamy (and she into the heart of Pemberley Digital CEO, William Darcy). The people creating this, as a series of interlinked vlogs, tweets, Tumblr messages, webpages, and you-name-it, are among the most respected names in the vlogging community, and both their expertise with the medium and their understanding of the story combine to make this a truly extraordinary achievement. And entertaining and adorable to boot!
What sets this apart from a standard Twitter novel or YouTube serial is the fact that the viewer is part of the fictional world where this takes place. You, the viewer, are watching Lizzie Bennet's vlog, watching this melodrama about her sisters' and her own love lives, education, financial security, and choices for happiness play out. The vlogs, however, are something that the fictional Lizzie has created, and which the other characters in the world watch (or don't watch) as elements of the plot. The main videos on Lizzie's channel interlink with videos on her younger sister Lydia's own YouTube channel, where the confessionals are appropriately less professional-looking and more sensationalistic. Characters tweet within the series on Twitter accounts you, the viewer, can follow -- and more importantly, the viewers can interact with. Questions may be acknowledged or answered when you send to the characters on Twitter, YouTube, Google+, Tumblr, or wherever Lizzie, Jane, Lydia, Darcy, Bing Lee (Austen's Bingley), Charlotte Lu (Austen's Charlotte Lewis), or other characters may be found. Even Kitty Bennet has a Twitter account, despite the fact that she's been adapted into a cat. Following the fictional characters online has the same feel as following a friend on all your social media outlets, except that when all the puzzle pieces fall together, you're getting a sharp and tightly woven adaptation of one of the Western tradition's most famous novels that talks back to you. The production team has done a flawless job interpreting the essence of the story into a modern context, and using the nature of new social media as well as its established norms to enhance their storytelling. Crisp, well-edited videos in clear resolution from the grad students majoring in communications, or from videos produced by the "Collins & Collins" or "Pemberley Digital" companies show the kind of filming technology the crew has available, but it's clear that Lydia wouldn't be using the latest cameras or know how to use editing software -- and true to character, her YouTube channel features largely unedited videos filmed at arm's length using a telephone, but the raw quality is part of her character, not a minus.
That level of thought has gone into creating the modern lives of every single character within the books, and the solutions this creative staff has put forward for all the problems of relating a Regency romance to the modern day are remarkably savvy. For example, it's simply not as socially acceptable anymore for a young lady in dire financial straits to marry into a well-provided lifestyle in the way that it was, indeed, one of the only respectable things that Charlotte Lewis could have done. Translating the mercenary yet socially very respectable decision to marry Mr. Collins into the modern day, this adaptation shows Charlotte Lu forgoing her last year of grad school and the chance to look for a dream career in favor of taking a partnership at the very corporate, very commercial Collins & Collins web video firm (backed, of course, by the extraordinary venture capitalist Catherine de Bourgh and her little dog Annie Kins). Lizzie views the decision to sign on to make "corporate videos and bad reality TV!" instead of following her dreams to be selling out, and beneath Charlotte (having already turned down Ricky Collins's offer because she thought it was beneath her own dignity), but Charlotte considers it sensible, and in the modern day it's entirely as understandable and respectable as would be the Regency era decision for a lady of somewhat gentle status but very few means to marry a man she doesn't love simply because he can support her. It's easy to respect both Lizzie's decision and Charlotte's, and the series of videos covering their fight over the decision and their eventual reconciliation are very emotional to watch. Far more than in the original book or in most standard adaptations of Pride and Prejudice, Charlotte feels like a fleshed-out person who makes understandable decisions and with whom the audience can connect on a level equivalent to the one where we connect with Lizzie.
Even more impressive, it's possible to connect with Jane, Lydia, Mary, and a host of other secondary characters who are at best caricatures and at worst non-entities within the original story. Jane, the perfect, kind older sister who's always likable and just naturally unbelievably sweet, shows up on camera and makes the viewer care about her fairy tale romance with Bing Lee, and makes you feel her pain when he leaves without a single word. The character of Fitzwilliam (not Darcy, the other Fitzwilliam) barely registers on most reading radars, seeming to exist purely for the moment when he reveals to Lizzie unknowingly that Darcy was the one who convinced Bing(ley) to leave Jane. In these videos, he's a fun, easygoing fellow who seems to have a place in Darcy's world and makes a real emotional connection with the audience, and left me practically in a panic as I hoped that fictional "Jane" really was as busy as Lizzie said and wouldn't have a chance to watch that vlog without warning. Mary's rebirth as a studious but deeply feeling goth cousin is infinitely more sympathetic than the sanctimonious sister in the book. They all have personalities beyond their function in the story that are human enough to make me care about what happens to them (something I can't claim I did when reading the original). Most impressive of all, perhaps, is Lydia Bennet -- THE Ly-dee-a, as she calls herself -- who has transformed from a generally unsympathetic airhead who runs off to have her reputation ruined by a rake (and never seems to notice anything isn't as it should be) into an incredibly sympathetic airhead who legitimately pushes her wild and crazy, devil-may-care attitude into life as a YouTube darling. Real, heart-wrenching emotional distance from her family drives her into the ruinous arms of George Wickham (dubbed "Dickham" by the internet, in classic style).
I never would have believed it was possible for anyone to care enough about Lydia to want something better for her than Wickham (except in the sense that any person deserves better than Wickham), but as adorable as they've made this little redhead and as horrible as they've made Wickham's behavior, I happily join the throngs of internet denizens who've declared that this version of the story is not allowed to end up like the book where Lydia is concerned. However her reputation gets saved, she deserves better than to be tied to that jerkwad (can't think of a word harsh enough for the character's behavior as depicted in this series, which I believe has been used as the basis for tutorials on how to identify an emotionally abusive boyfriend with whom you need to break up for the sake of your mental health). I'm pretty sure if they stay together, there will be blood. I credit the adaptors' decision to give Lydia, as well as other appropriate characters, a narrative voice of her own. The chance to see this character from her own, human perspective changed my perception of the story as well as the perception of countless other viewers. In many ways, this entire presentation (which is not finished, and I'm on the edge of my seat to see what they do with the ending) acts as an object lesson in perception. In its original incarnation, Pride and Prejudice was a powerful story about how we see people in society, how we are seen by others, and how "the truth" may not be exactly different from what you perceive but is certainly a lot more complicated than can be fairly judged at first glance from a single perspective. The original Miss Elizabeth Bennet learns this, as does the original Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, by confronting each other with undeniable views that are not complimentary to their first impressions. This Lizzie Bennet and William Darcy have to do the same thing -- as the actors said in an interview, the wonderful thing about these characters is the way they make each other better. Here, by multiplying the perspectives from which we see the story, the complicated nature of truth and how it differently affects different people gets a new and poignant additional dimension.
This entry was originally posted at http://psiten.dreamwidth.org/102586.html. Please comment there using OpenID.