On Sparrabeth...
“Anybody who thinks that Jack and Elizabeth are meant to be, oughta have their bloody head examined!”
This was a lovely message I received through ff.net this weekend amidst many other far more kind and enthusiastic missives. Of course, the above is the one that has stuck with me the past few days.
Despite my amusement that this comment was left anonymously (of course it was, you chicken $hit) and on the *seventh* chapter of the Sparrabeth fic (if it was so bloody awful why read all of it?) it did make me think a bit more specifically about the fandom that has been as intrinsic a part of my being as surely as my heart beats and my eyes are blue.
I’m not arguing that maybe my head needs examining, exactly, but it got me thinking about the Jack/Elizabeth fandom, Sparrabethers, and why the character of Elizabeth resounds like a thunderclap in a place rooted deep in my [our] soul[s].
The love of Jack really is the no-brainer. He’s fun, witty, handsome, creative, clever as the devil and yet somehow still a good man. He is Trickster Incarnate. He’s Johnny Depp, for chrissakes, what more could you possibly want? Furthermore, he really is the leading man, so why shouldn’t he get the girl in the end? Elizabeth is a more difficult creature to put one’s finger upon.
Elizabeth is beautiful, yaes duh ok, but she is smart as a whip, and there is a ferocity in her that boils beneath the surface of her comely exterior. There is a strength in her spirit that cannot be tamed. She possesses a wildness that in the beginning, only Jack sees. Peas in a pod, the pirate recognizes one of his own.
I think she speaks to those of us who have ever been put in a certain box because we are a pretty female, and expected to be weak, only to meet the world with head high and claws bared. She speaks to those of us who will always choose the path that holds adventure, even if it will be difficult. We recognize a little girl who would dare to sing a song of pirates, just to see what may part the mists. We know a woman who would do an ugly thing that was necessary, even if it killed her inside, and we identify a woman who would go to the mouth of hell itself for a man she loved.
We are adventurers and travelers. We are artists and dreamers. We possess souls forged in fire and hearts deep as the ocean. It takes quite the pirate to call himself our match. The lovely ladies I’ve met in this fandom have been some of the most intuitive, creative, intelligent, and interesting people I’ve ever had the pleasure to correspond with.
So if you think that’s such a terrible thing, maybe you need *your* head examined. Savvy?
::sticks out tongue::
This was a lovely message I received through ff.net this weekend amidst many other far more kind and enthusiastic missives. Of course, the above is the one that has stuck with me the past few days.
Despite my amusement that this comment was left anonymously (of course it was, you chicken $hit) and on the *seventh* chapter of the Sparrabeth fic (if it was so bloody awful why read all of it?) it did make me think a bit more specifically about the fandom that has been as intrinsic a part of my being as surely as my heart beats and my eyes are blue.
I’m not arguing that maybe my head needs examining, exactly, but it got me thinking about the Jack/Elizabeth fandom, Sparrabethers, and why the character of Elizabeth resounds like a thunderclap in a place rooted deep in my [our] soul[s].
The love of Jack really is the no-brainer. He’s fun, witty, handsome, creative, clever as the devil and yet somehow still a good man. He is Trickster Incarnate. He’s Johnny Depp, for chrissakes, what more could you possibly want? Furthermore, he really is the leading man, so why shouldn’t he get the girl in the end? Elizabeth is a more difficult creature to put one’s finger upon.
Elizabeth is beautiful, yaes duh ok, but she is smart as a whip, and there is a ferocity in her that boils beneath the surface of her comely exterior. There is a strength in her spirit that cannot be tamed. She possesses a wildness that in the beginning, only Jack sees. Peas in a pod, the pirate recognizes one of his own.
I think she speaks to those of us who have ever been put in a certain box because we are a pretty female, and expected to be weak, only to meet the world with head high and claws bared. She speaks to those of us who will always choose the path that holds adventure, even if it will be difficult. We recognize a little girl who would dare to sing a song of pirates, just to see what may part the mists. We know a woman who would do an ugly thing that was necessary, even if it killed her inside, and we identify a woman who would go to the mouth of hell itself for a man she loved.
We are adventurers and travelers. We are artists and dreamers. We possess souls forged in fire and hearts deep as the ocean. It takes quite the pirate to call himself our match. The lovely ladies I’ve met in this fandom have been some of the most intuitive, creative, intelligent, and interesting people I’ve ever had the pleasure to correspond with.
So if you think that’s such a terrible thing, maybe you need *your* head examined. Savvy?
::sticks out tongue::