DOCTOR: It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Any moment now, he's a-coming
( Read more... )
But the fact that we were all anticipating some huge event, and ultimately the Doctor is just saving one village, means a lot to me.
Right? It's so powerful, because of COURSE the Doctor should value those lives that much. When he talks about how every single he life he saves over the years is a victory, it's incredibly powerful- so many people got to live our their lives directly because of him, and for once, they got to know him and love him for it. He doesn't just save their lives and leave- he becomes part of their lives.
I'm always a sucker for the stories of a protagonist who does their best but has a hard time believing in and accepting the hugely abundant love of others- Harry Potter is built that way, the story of a boy who grows up thinking he's unloveable but is SO loved it's powerful beyond imagining. It's absolutely tied up in my own, very personal issues, but when I see the story on screen, it goes right to my heart, every time. This ending, and the ending of season six when River literally insists he knows how loved he is before she risks touching him and possibly losing him... They just stop me in my tracks. And like I said earlier, when you combine that theme with this particular Doctor who has hated himself SO MUCH, it means the world to me to see the story take the time to tell him he is worthy. And he accepts it! He really does, it's so easy to see in the peace with which he accepts the regeneration.
I think a good deal of Twelve's question of, Am I a good man? comes from that place of self-doubt. Was he worth the sacrifice the time lords made for him? Worth the love he was shown? New man, old doubts. But unlike when Ten came after Nine, I feel okay with seeing this ground retreaded after Eleven's peace with it. I think in part, it comes from Twelve knowingly having a bigger pile of good things now. He's denied himself that for so long- Ten wallowed in NOT having a big pile (in his estimation), but now I think he's come to accept that he has so much, and just questions now his worthiness. That I can get behind!
You know, that's a really helpful take on Twelve. I admit, I've struggled with his character or his arc, because after all the miracles of Eleven's run, I couldn't understand why he seemed to have decided that things like miracles and heroes didn't exist. But if it's more a question of his thinking that he doesn't deserve such things…I'll have to think about that some more!
I love the ending of "The Wedding of River Song," too: that River knows what she'll eventually have to do, but she is NOT going to do it before the Doctor hears just how much he's loved…The Doctor's behavior there is so telling, too, because he tries to push Amy and River away, to make them angry or hateful enough to give up on him and stop trying to save him (telling River he's ashamed of her; snapping, "I won't thank you for this, Amelia Pond") - I think he thinks that their love for him must be shallowly rooted enough for that to work, because how could they really love him, the kind of man he is? That is a favorite story of mine, too - although I have a tendency to only realize it well after the fact. (This happens on occasion when I try to write something of my own, as well; I'll read it months later and only then realize that one of the characters is exactly that kind of character who believes that he or she is incapable of being loved.)
Right? It's so powerful, because of COURSE the Doctor should value those lives that much. When he talks about how every single he life he saves over the years is a victory, it's incredibly powerful- so many people got to live our their lives directly because of him, and for once, they got to know him and love him for it. He doesn't just save their lives and leave- he becomes part of their lives.
I'm always a sucker for the stories of a protagonist who does their best but has a hard time believing in and accepting the hugely abundant love of others- Harry Potter is built that way, the story of a boy who grows up thinking he's unloveable but is SO loved it's powerful beyond imagining. It's absolutely tied up in my own, very personal issues, but when I see the story on screen, it goes right to my heart, every time. This ending, and the ending of season six when River literally insists he knows how loved he is before she risks touching him and possibly losing him... They just stop me in my tracks. And like I said earlier, when you combine that theme with this particular Doctor who has hated himself SO MUCH, it means the world to me to see the story take the time to tell him he is worthy. And he accepts it! He really does, it's so easy to see in the peace with which he accepts the regeneration.
I think a good deal of Twelve's question of, Am I a good man? comes from that place of self-doubt. Was he worth the sacrifice the time lords made for him? Worth the love he was shown? New man, old doubts. But unlike when Ten came after Nine, I feel okay with seeing this ground retreaded after Eleven's peace with it. I think in part, it comes from Twelve knowingly having a bigger pile of good things now. He's denied himself that for so long- Ten wallowed in NOT having a big pile (in his estimation), but now I think he's come to accept that he has so much, and just questions now his worthiness. That I can get behind!
Reply
I love the ending of "The Wedding of River Song," too: that River knows what she'll eventually have to do, but she is NOT going to do it before the Doctor hears just how much he's loved…The Doctor's behavior there is so telling, too, because he tries to push Amy and River away, to make them angry or hateful enough to give up on him and stop trying to save him (telling River he's ashamed of her; snapping, "I won't thank you for this, Amelia Pond") - I think he thinks that their love for him must be shallowly rooted enough for that to work, because how could they really love him, the kind of man he is? That is a favorite story of mine, too - although I have a tendency to only realize it well after the fact. (This happens on occasion when I try to write something of my own, as well; I'll read it months later and only then realize that one of the characters is exactly that kind of character who believes that he or she is incapable of being loved.)
Reply
Leave a comment