Radio Serial Narrative

So, I have lots of thoughts about the Radio Serial Narrative; The Mystery of the Diamond Studded Belt.  I don't listen to a lot of old radio shows, but I did used to listen to some, sometimes when I was a child. I'm also fairly unfamiliar with what technology can do--
That being said, I was pretty impressed with the sound effects of the radio show.  I found them to be spot on, clear, and well done.
I think the commercial interruption detail is cute and a thoughtful addition.
Throughout the show I found myself wondering if the drama/style of everything was completely serious, supposed to be humorous, how much is based on old radio shows and attempting to be accurate, what is maybe playing on dramatic serial narratives like Breaking Bad, and how much is maybe a parody of old radio shows, if any.
I think the juxtaposition of old radio style and modern dialogue is neat and works for the most part.  In some spots the dialogue could have been smoother-I didn't know what was actin, conveying emotions, and what was trying to translate different feelings (of old radio shows and modern dramas), all of the time.
I didn't understand all of the slang either, but I liked that it was in the dialogue, it definitely has a place.  Though I was confused by the gender pronoun play-calling male voices dames and female voices sirs...

I don't know if I missed something but the plot doesn't seem to make sense with the title for me-since there isn't a mention of a diamond studded belt, unless I missed it..?
Who is the audience?
The self reflection/narration/questioning adds suspense drama, humor, and informs listeners, which is nifty.
And!  The insane ending! Molly got shot, whatever could happen?  This was great, just like all of the serial narratives we've been studying all semester--create all the drama to bring observers (in this case, listeners) back.
All in all I enjoyed this radio show, and am glad to have had the chance to check it out.

Positronic Thinking

We're finished with the second segment of Positron now, out of three that have been published so far (with a fourth theoretically coming out sometime in the future).

So far, I'm liking it. The first part was... okay. It was a set-up chapter, to be sure - plenty of exposition to establish what Consilience is branding itself as and what sort of world it exists in (dystopian, for the record). And we were introduced to our two main characters: Stan and Charmaine, unpleasant individuals ordinaire. A domestic disturbance was underway, and then, in the end of part one, it turned out to be a bit less domestic (and, at the same time, significantly closer to home) than Stan had anticipated.

I think my main problem with part one was that neither Stan nor Charmaine were particularly likable or clever, and they were effectively presented as the only two people in conflict (until the very end). With part two, this changed - both were now pitted against the system into which they had signed their lives away, whether they were aware of it or not. So, while this didn't make either character change into a better person, it did make things a lot more interesting, and the flaws inherent in the system of Consilience started coming to the forefront. (The potential for abuse in surveillance states comes to mind, for instance, as do comparisons to cults and the eternal question of "Who profits?")

I'm still not sure what to think about that twist at the end of part two. It DID come somewhat out of left field (well... more on that in a second), but it also has me very interested in what's coming next (as in, once I finish this post, I'm reading part three - doesn't seem right to write a post about parts one and two while knowing what comes next). Now, as to whether or not Jocelyn's about-face has been appropriately foreshadowed, well, that sort of depends on whether or not it's genuine. The way I see it, there are two likely outcomes: either Jocelyn and Phil are indeed acting to sabotage the system, or they're cleaning up the mess they made by framing Stan. It would fit with the story so far to have them be framing Stan - how many characters, thus far, have had anything that would pass for a conscience? - but, at the same time, Jocelyn's talk of Stan being a "wild card" earlier on does lend some credence to their claims.

Of course, getting too analytical of these things can ruin the fun. You're not supposed to know what happens next when it's a cliffhanger, right? And if today's super-savvy readers can sniff out plot twists a mile away, well, maybe that means that authors have to go a bit above and beyond to surprise them. We'll see, come part three.

PS: One last quick note - agency. Neither Stan nor Charmaine have much. Charmaine's "personal touches" in her angel of death routine seem to be the extent of hers, and Stan's pretty much ends at the contemplation of violent acts that he never performs. Even these have been accounted for by those controlling them - they just haven't been stopped, unlike Stan's surveillance and Charmaine's liaisons. This isn't too uncommon in dystopian novels - at least not in authoritarian ones - but it does make their characters a bit less interesting, at least for me. I'm hoping that part three changes this up a bit (Charmaine's upcoming choice should be a start).

EDIT: Another thing - quick this time, I promise. My Kindle program for my PC automatically had a little feature on that underlines segments of text that lots of other readers had highlighted. This is profoundly annoying. I want to discover the clever lines myself, thanks; if I wanted a tutorial version of a book, I'd be using SparkNotes. Rant over. :)

Evolution in '4 Days Out'

This episode was interesting in that it focused almost entirely on the relationship between Jesse and Walt, rather than the usual dynamic of Walt and his family. All too often it seems that Walter relies on Jesse's ignorance- in this case, telling him that the methalymene is in danger of spoiling and knowing that the younger man will not question it. Then, however, he turns around and curses Jesse for his lack of knowledge. Their relationship shifts throughout this episode: when they are cooking, Walt takes on the familiar role of the chemistry professor he is, indulging Jesse's questions and seeming to feel an almost paternal sense of pride when Jesse surprises him by listening and catching on. Of course, the moment doesn't last ("What one particular element comes to mind?" "...Ohhhh, wire!" "...Copper.") and Walt's disdain comes back in full force. It is only when they are in the direst of situations, relying on an outside and unlikely source for rescue from a deadly situation, that they are on equal footing. Just as in Grilled, when they were faced with the manic Tuco and his formidable yet silent Tio, the pair must team up to save themselves.

While this episode may not show as much of Walt's evolution as the show has in the past, it turns the viewer's attentions to a different source of growth and development: Jesse, the smack-talking man-child who survives on Funyuns and gummy bears, continues to change for what appears to be the better. While it is fairly obvious that his actions are driven by base impulses (in this case, his desire for continued sexual gratification with his neighbor/girlfriend), the fact that he makes an effort to follow through with them shows his desire to be seen as more than what he currently is. He is slowly but surely maturing and starting to see himself as a responsible individual, as displayed by his promise to Walt at the end of the episode- in the event of Walt's death, season one Jesse very likely would have taken all the money for himself. His assurance that Walt's family will receive his share is one more sign of his evolution as a character.

What Universe Does Nimona Exist In?

An aspect of Nimona that stands out it its constant re-ordering of facts. Points of view change quickly, the "Axis of Action" is frequently broken, and artwork is constantly in flux. Initially, these may seem like artist mistakes, but it's possible that it's representative of a larger theme of the comic. It may be that Nimona's universe is constantly shifting. If we take it as fact, we can say that Ballistar's armor is gray in one panel and white in another and both are correct. This can be written off as an effect of the lighting, although this isn't always the case. The world of the comic exists in a place where technology and feudal systems co-exist. This is perhaps best exemplified by a medieval version of Monopoly with castles and pieces of gold instead of money. While dragons are a definite thing that exist, since Nimona can only replicate animals that are real, we know that magic and science both have a place in the universe. This constant shifting and reordering is perhaps because Nimona herself is a shape-shifter. She is continually changing herself, and therefore the universe that surrounds her is also malleable. However, this brings up the problem of how we define her world. If it's close to anything goes, where what we know in one comic might change in the other, how can we willingly suspend our disbelief, or intelligently go along with the story? We haven't had anything directly negate anything previously in the story, but how far does the malleability go? So far, Noelle Stevenson has been able to balance this constant shifting with steady character development and plot arcs. It's understood that while small details may change, larger pieces are constant.

How might this affect the comic in the future? If our perception of the universe is constantly changing, will we start to see a new light to Ballistar and Goldenloin's story?

Who are the Good Guys?

The 6th chapter of Nimona is much longer than the previous ones. In between chapters 6 and what we have of 7, the moral lines between the characters deteriorate even more. Goldenloin  denies intentionally causing harm to Ballister in the duel that lost the latter his arm. Nimona becomes even more bloodthirsty and chaotic. A mysterious Institution is introduced. Ballister remains the nicest character, and he's supposed to be the evil mastermind. The good people in the comic are becoming more and more despicable, through planning Nimona's assassination and generally being unlikeable.

As of the newest page, we still don't know what the Institution is, or how it relates to Goldenloin, Ballister, and the way Nimona's world works. They seem to be the malicious people running everything behind the scenes, but beyond that, we really don't get any information. As readers, we still don't know what their motive is, and it only serves to make them even shadier.

Ballister cares for Nimona. He's making himself a redeemable character, but he's really the only one. Nimona keeps getting thrilled at the prospect of killing people and wreaking havoc on the land, and Goldenloin continues to be his normal, pompous and mean self.

I'm curious about what Noelle Stevenson has planned for these characters. They keep getting more interesting as the story progress, in the way the treat each other and how much they reveal about themselves. Maybe everyone will end up meeting in the middle of a moral gray area?

Villains?

In chapters 3 through 5, Nimona and Ballister infiltrate a science lab, have a confrontation with Goldenloin, and steal some top secret plans from the institution headquarters. We also find out where Nimona got her shapeshifting powers from, and the secret plans they stole reveal that the institution is stockpiling a deadly poison. Nimona uses her shapeshifting powers to spread the word on the local news channel, much to the distress of the director of the institution. Goldenloin is told that the report is a lie spread by Ballister and Nimona, which is only half true. 

One thing I really appreciate in this comic is the changes in art style. Compare any of the panels on the first two pages of chapter 3 with the last panel on page 3 - chapter 3. And again on the first page of chapter 4, a bunch of different styles of drawing are used. In my experience with webcomics, artists tend to pick a style and stick with it, so this was a refreshing change. 

The other thing I really liked was the idea of rules, and how Ballister seems intent on following the rules, despite being a so called villain, and how Goldenloin seems to be working for the forces of good, when in fact, the organization he works for is plotting something sinister. What do you think the institution has planned for the Jaderoot?

Exploring The Meta-Narrative (And Why That's Okay)

     In Nimona, Chapters 3-5, we start to see the world coalesce around the characters and things begin to take on a degree of perspective.  We see vagrants asleep under statues of the Knight-savior Sir Goldenloin, implying some level of civil unrest in the world.  We encounter the threads of corruption in the Institute of Heroism, of course unbeknownst to the golden knight himself.  We start to piece together the places where the world's technology is feudal and where it is futuristic.  As the world builds up around us it becomes easier to lie back and allow the story to progress without asking too many questions.  Of course, we need some familiar ground.  Zombie movies, jousts, government agencies, identifiable concepts all.  But Nimona goes beyond simply recognizable constructs and extends very often into the realm of the meta to drive the story.
     Now, "meta" has become something of a dirty word to those in the know about genre fiction, a format which Nimona leads us to believe it is following.   So, to be clear, it is no criticism to say that the comic relies on a certain level of meta-narrative understanding in its fans.  Indeed, that may be part of its charm.  The fact that Nimona can allude to "the backstory thing" is a nod to the reader that their understanding of such tropes is correct.  As well, it allows Nimona a degree of freedom in her explanation, as we need only the details of the story to understand the standard progression of events she is describing.  Such difficult questions as Ballister's "Really, she turned a six-year-old into a dragon?" or "Why were you able to become other animals?" would allude to an appropriate level of ridiculousness if the reader could not fill in the gaps in the framework themselves.  His role in the exposition is to allow the author and the reader the conceit of a handwave for specific details which would drag the story down if we lingered on them.  Why is she a shapeshifter?  She just is, okay?  By opening with "the backstory thing," Nimona frees the reader of any burden to read too much into what will be said, as if to say 'You get this kind of thing, so let's hear it out and then move on.'
     The entire story of chapter 3 leans even more closely on a meta-understanding of the characters' own roles in the story they are telling, all without any sense of them personally breaking the fourth wall.  Ballister and Goldenloin are prepared to banter, and suddenly Nimona turns into a wolf and starts killing people.  "This isn't how things are supposed to go," says Goldenloin, recognizing along with Ballister just how didactic a scene like this could be.  Villain duels hero, they quip and acknowledge their shared past.  Villain announces allegiance to evil, hero to good, and we see the tension that they shall never reconcile.  But Nimona seems to understand these tropes while simultaneously possessing the drive to break them, taking on a practical wisdom while parading arms-raised through their dramatic confrontation.  Of course you kill the guards, they'll raise the alarm!  Why else be excited at the arrival of goons?  Who else would recognize that they're goons at all?  This outlook is directly ingrained into her character in every aspect, from voice to mindset to appearance and even to some degree in her abilities. 
     One look at Nimona's character and we expect to explore a new perspective on Ballister's plans, both by looking at what they have been and what they could have been with Nimona's input.  The story does not merely evoke tropes for the sake of understanding, but seems to promise that we will unpack them for meaning as we learn more about the characters.  Why do they know so much about the parts they are supposed to be playing?  How will our understanding of those roles evolve as the characters grow?  The story's progression is central to these two questions, and asking the one only begs the answer to the other.  And in the end, we read because we want to see the characters' arcs. 
     Here's hoping we eventually get some explanation as to where Nimona manifested such bloodlust.

Hank has a Panic Attack?

In our last class, we discussed the character development of Hank. He begins the series as a macho figure, who seems designed to give Walter an inferiority complex. As the show continued, we saw Hank as a blustering, almost buffoonish character. His wisecracks and sense of superiority dug under the skin of Walter and the audience. Walter certainly seems to take some pleasure in undermining Hank and profiting from the very line of business Hank must stamp out. However, when Walter and Jesse were utterly helpless, kidnapped by Tuco, it’s Hank who saved the day. We finally see him in his element, calm and collected in the midst of a shootout, and he dispatches the villain.

Here’s where the perceptions of Hank get fleshed out even more. For all his talk, he is obviously shaken by the shootout with Tuco, and even has a panic attack at one point. I think the scene of panic attack in the elevator gave more volume to Hank than the entire series had, up to this point. We’re not used to seeing Hank doubt himself, or even need help, so when he’s gasping and pressing the emergency button on the elevator, I assumed he was having a heart attack, or some critical medical problem, but then the elevator doors opened and he realized he was physically fine. The brief instant where the audience realizes that they’ve finally seen Hank rattled and scared, is beautifully followed by Hank squaring his shoulders and swaggering over to his friends with his usual bravado. This time, when we see his silhouette retreating into the distance, we know that his carelessness is an act.

Will this development of Hank continue? I’m curious to see how it might change the dynamic between Walter and Hank, since Walter has some clear resentment for Hank’s brash attitude. Perhaps Hank losing his confidence will result in Walter gaining more?

"What's changed, Jesse?"

"Grilled" and "Bit By a Dead Bee" provide an interesting study in contrasts. If the latter episode explores what happens when Walt and Jesse try to run away from the consequences of the situation they've become embroiled in, the former depicts the two running full bore into consequences because there's nothing else for them to do. 

Throughout the episode Walt and Jesse concoct ways to avoid the presumably awful fate of working in Tuco's superlab. Jesse tries to convince Tuco to snort the ricin and almost succeeds. Jesse and Walt then try to lace Tuco's food with it -- "Grilled" is unbelievably tense, but no sequence in the episode is more difficult to watch than when Tuco's uncle foils their plan by repeatedly ringing his bell, turning a seemingly benign object into the most dangerous weapon in an episode full of deadly weapons. "Tio" can barely move, but the power he is able to wield is enough to doom the able-bodied Walt and Jesse, and that dichotomy suffuses the middle stretch of the episode with an almost unbearable tension.

When Hank makes a timely appearance in his search for Walt and dispatches Tuco, Walt and Jesse spend the entirety of the next episode creating alibis for themselves. (Catherine mentioned episode cold opens in her blog post, and I love the ways the openings of these episodes encapsulate what's to come in each one. The opening of "Grilled" foreshadows the conflict between Tuco and Walt, Jesse, and Hank in the episode's climax -- similar to the cold open of the premiere, only in color and referencing this specific episode -- while "Bit By a Dead Bee"'s opening displays the lengths to which Walter will go to hide what has happened to him from the outside world, specifically by stripping naked in a supermarket. Each episode has a very specific focus, as their openings demonstrate.) Jesse's alibi in particular nearly falls apart thanks to the sudden reappearance of Tio Salamanca. The show did such a good job of associating the sound of his bell ringing with grave danger for Walt and Jesse in the previous episode that the audience nervously anticipates hearing the familiar sound one more time, which would singlehandedly send Jesse to jail (though it never happens).

What particularly interests me are Walter's motivations at this point in the series. In Baltzer-Jaray's essay, she characterizes Walt's newfound life of crime as resulting from a desire to take control of the direction of his life following his cancer diagnosis. Indeed, Walt's life had been so unfulfilling to that point (as he explains to his psychologist, who I know as The Mayor from Buffy) that it's fairly clear that his life has been reenergized by his new purpose. (The song "Waiting Around to Die" plays during the episode, which could be interpreted as a reflection of Walt's mental state -- he certainly has no intention of waiting around to die of cancer.) When he tells Jesse that he wants to continue making meth because nothing has changed, it doesn't seem like he's wrong, as the goal of leaving enough money for his family remains the same. But as Walt is drawn into the drug trade and all of its short-term benefits, it's easy to see how it might erode the foundations of his life in the long run. His family can only be distrustful of him after his disappearance, and Skyler's suspicions aren't going to go away, especially after he's unable to come up with an excuse to explain away his second cell phone. In the end, he might lose a lot more than his life.

Desperation and Schemes

     Episodes 2 and 3 of Breaking Bad, season 2, give us some of the strongest moments of characterization yet for Jesse and Walter in their capture by Tuco, their thwarting of his escape plan, and their scheming to handle the complex aftermath of the affair.  We see just how far these two are willing to go, and are capable of going, when the truth is on the line. 
     The gap between seasons left us remarkably aware of the world into which Walter and Jesse had entered and the reach of people like Tuco.  Episode 2 expanded on our understanding of the volatile drug dealer, showing us Tuco's derangement at having hit rock bottom after his assets are seized and his closest people betray him (he believes).  In showing us this strained portrayal of a madman at the end of his rope, we are given a glimpse into what Walter and Jesse risk becoming if they continue down this path.  In getting a distributor of this magnitude, Jesse and Walt have graduated to the next level of the drug trade and in doing so they have changed the scope of their operation.  This is the norm now.  Tuco is the norm.  Thus, the risks they must take are greater, and the lies larger, in order to preserve their place.  What will this raising of the stakes mean for our heroes, and will their drug trade rise to meet their new challenges?
     Of course we are left wondering how they could possibly escape from the debacle at Tuco's house with their reputations intact.  Surely they will get busted.  We saw the intro to episode 2, we know how deep they're in it.  Hank is there, he even has Jesse's name now!  All that is left is to see the pieces put together and their cover will be blown, making all of season 1's efforts for nothing.  Episode 3 answers how Walter and Jesse plan to misdirect the DEA, reflecting the drastic changes Tuco was prepared to make to their operation (having his cousins move them to Mexico).  In sacrificing a portion of their earnings (Jesse's portion) and fabricating a massively trust-shattering lie to Walter's family, the pair successfully maintain their place as middleweight drug manufacturers without compromising their operations to the authorities.  But it has taken its toll, and in turn has set up several major conflicts that will surely need resolving throughout the season.  Does enacting this plan make them no better than Tuco himself?  Will Walter's family come to trust him again?  Will Skyler act on the dozens of questions that Walter's 'fugue state' raised?  What will Jesse have to do to get enough money to make ends meet?  What of the lab and supplies?  And while treading all this water, how will they find the time to make more meth?  Stay tuned!
    
     Honorable Mention:  During the rise of this complex deception and our tentative return to the status quo, we meet the most delightful character yet: Hector 'Tio' Salamanca.  It's astounding that they were able to write such complexity and expression into a character who can only communicate by ringing a bell.  Bravo.  

Legality vs. Morality

In episode 7 season 1 of Breaking Bad, Walter and Jesse continue their Methamphetamine drug trade, getting involved in alternative, and more dangerous, ways to go about acquiring their ingredients.  Their involvement in their trade is pushed to ridiculous limits as each step of creating the product becomes even more of a challenge.  Not only are they getting involved with these more dangerous methods, but they are also getting involved with more dangerous people in their trades (Tuco), and they know that the police are after them.  Their dangerous and possibly imminent future is even laid in front of them at the scene closing episode 7 and opening season 2 episode 1—where Tuco kills his partner right in front of them, without thinking twice.  At this point, Walter and Jesse are faced with the reality of the industry they’ve gotten involved in.  However, as we see in season 2 episode 1, Walter’s involvement is directly tied to the well being of his family.  In the scene with Walter and Jesse in the car, Walter blatantly lays out his plan of making enough money to pay for his family’s well being for the rest of their life after he passes away from Cancer.  It is evident there that his focus and moral judgement is purely based on providing for his family, regardless of the detriment of the situation.   Therefore, this makes us, the audience, blend our views of legality and morality.

Though we are truly aware of how illegal the situation Walter and Jesse are, we sympathize with them because of their reasoning and moral "goodness" in our eyes.  In fact, there are many situations where legality is questioned in these two episodes: Walter and Jesse’s drug trade, Marie’s shoplifting problem, and Hank’s Cuban cigars.  Though Walter and Jesse’s drug trade definitely trumps both of the other situations by far in terms of their illegality, we still have the most sympathy for them, because we can empathize with their moral judgement.  When Walter posed the hypothetical question to Skyler asking her what she would do if he did something bad, but for the sake of the family, she replied with "you don't want to know what I would do".  This is the typical outsider reaction to situations like the one Walter is in that deter the laws of legality.  However, as audience, since we have been immersed in Walter's life, we understand his moral judgement and loosen our laws of morality towards him.

The use and context of episode openers

   In the opening of season one, the viewers are presented with the image of pants falling through the bright blue desert sky, Walt's confession video, and his attempted suicide. Throughout the episode, the order of events leads us to place that scene in context. By the end of the episode, we understand just what is going on. Throughout season one, this form of analepsis is used in several more episodes and is effective in creating suspense for the viewer. We can expect to see some sort of abstraction of a scene and eventually figure out some sort of context or conclusion of that scene.
   Season two opens with the same sort of abstraction introduced in season one. However, something is markedly different with this opener. First, the scene is shot in black and white and has an oddly sharp quality to it. The camera work is stark and slightly shaking. Normal items from the backyard—a hose, a slug, a wind chime—now seem eerie and out of place as they cut from one to the next. At the shot of the pool, we first hear the siren in the distance as a plastic eyeball floats past—wait, a plastic eyeball? Soon this is given context as the camera sinks under water and a neon pink teddy bear enters the frame. Aside from being the first item of color shown in the scene, it sticks out for more than one reason. As the camera rotates around it, we can see it is charred on one side (thus, the vagrant eye). This is alarming: why is this teddy bear in the pool? Why is it burnt? What relation does it have to Walt, Skyler, or the unborn baby girl? And why is a siren the only noise we can hear?
   I spent the episode excited for the conclusion of this bizarre scene (something season one had trained me to expect). However, no context whatsoever is given for this opener. While season one was effective in using to create suspense through analepsis, this scene created even more suspense than any other opener. Something about seeing the stuffed animal in a bright neon color juxtaposed with the eerie black and white calm water was especially disturbing—it should definitely not be there. This scene effectively sets the tone for the episode; Walt and Jesse cannot turn back any longer and this season seems as though it will be much darker than the previous. Indeed, the conclusion of the episode—Walt getting into Jesse's car at Tuco's gunpoint—is bound to lead nowhere good. When we will be able to place the opener into context, only time will tell.

Two Endings

The two endings of Great Expectations have common ideas at their center but veer in very different directions in terms of depiction. Both endings feature a reunion between Estella and Pip years after Drummle has (somewhat fittingly) been killed by a horse that he had treated badly, though in the original ending she remarries. Both endings imply that Estella's years of unhappiness with Drummle have wiped away Miss Havisham's teachings of disdain towards all men and given her an appreciation of what Pip had gone through. But while the original ending depicts a quick encounter between Pip and Estella in the middle of the street, the canonical ending gives their meeting more room to breathe. 

There's been discussion as to whether Dickens makes the mistake of revising his ending to be more audience-friendly (and it definitely is, as unlike the original ending there's hope that Pip and Estella might have a future together -- the final words of the novel, "I saw no shadow of another parting from her," leave this ambiguous). I don't know if Dickens betrays the novel by veering away from the ending that would seem truer to real life, but I think the value of the revised ending is that Estella gets her say, in a way she never really had previously. Throughout the novel she's a character who is acted upon: she is corrupted by Miss Havisham's teachings; she is the object of Pip's affections. Even in the original ending it's up to Pip to interpret their encounter as proof that she has softened towards him. But in this ending she gets to tell Pip that her feelings have changed, and that makes all the difference in terms of allowing her to be a character with an inner life and agency. What the ending leaves me with isn't the idea that Pip and Estella might get married (or, conversely, that they might not see each other again) but that after this meeting they're finally on equal footing and there's nothing in the way of them truly understanding each other.

A Little Tweak of Chemistry

What I was most struck by in the 5th and 6th episodes was the relationship between Walt and Jesse. In Gray Matter were Walt is being thrust back into a world he could have had, Jesse is alternatively looking for what seems to be a chance to go straight. Throughout the episode the both of them demonstrate aspects of the others personality  While Walt's I would argue becomes more apparent in the next episode, Jesse's attention to detail when cooking with Badger mirrors Walt's and shows just how much he has come to learn from Walt.  I also found Jesse dissatisfaction with the product and it's imperfections to poignant as it strengthens the scenes from earlier where Jesse is understandably upset with is life and the options he has for employment simply because he lacks the  schooling to do so.  

In Crazy Handful of Nothin it's Walt's action's that exhibit elements of Jesse.The episode starts with him telling Jesse how their partnership is going to continue with Walt doing the cooking and Jesse just distributing only to end with Walt being the main reason they find a large quantity buyer and the reason they get money.  I feel like the fact that the two of them are seemingly unconsciously picking up nuances from each other is telling of a burgeoning friendship between the two while also setting the stage for a future power shift within their partnership/friendship.

Fulminated Mercury

Reactions, changes, and explosions are the catalysts that drive plot and action in S1:Ep6 of Breaking Bad.  In the opening of the episode, we see Walt talking to Jesse about their new operation and his desire to be the “silent partner” who doesn’t interact with the customers.  In the next few seconds we come to realize that Walt will not be the silent partner for long.  As a voiceover of Walt saying “No more violence, no more bloodshed” plays, we hear sirens and see a transformed Walter White walking away from what we can only assume to be a crime scene.  As the Breaking Bad opening credit plays, the open form of this scene leaves us asking questions.  What did Walt do?  Where is he?  What’s in the bag?  When does he go bald?

Then, after a brief look into Walt’s cancer treatment, the concept of explosions is revisited while Walt is teaching his chemistry class about chemical reactions.  Walt explains to his students that chemical reactions must require a change in matter and energy.  Re-watching this episode several months after the first time I viewed it, I found this lecture to be very interesting in terms of change not only throughout Season 1 but in subsequent seasons as well.  In my favorite part of the lecture, Walt elaborated on the effects of the speed of change on how violent a reaction is.  He explains that the faster things change, the more violent an explosion is, and “If a change happens too quickly, otherwise harmless substances can interact in a way that generates enormous bursts of energy.”  He then provides an example of one of these otherwise harmless substances, fulminated Mercury, and lucky for us, this isn’t the last we hear of this substance in Episode 6. 

In the rest of the episode we see Walt’s perceived character change rapidly from a quiet, reserved Mr. White to a more powerful, fear-inducing Heisenberg.  The speed of his character change culminates in a huge burst of energy at Tuco’s hideout, when we see fulminated Mercury in action.  With this simple substance, Walt uses his knowledge to place him in a position of power and induce fear in all of those around him, a position quite different from how we’d seen him in earlier scenes.  The reveal of the dominant Heisenberg in this episode leaves the audience wondering how this change will affect plotlines and the development of other characters in future episodes.

Time Jumps Revealing Character Insights

I don’t think it’s a very big stretch to say that Breaking Bad is one of the best TV shows currently on the air. Critics and audiences love it, two groups which have been known to disagree to disastrous results – The Black Donnelly’s anybody? Breaking Bad manages to be technically excellent without giving up an inch of audience engagement to what some might see as overly ‘artsy’ elements. But what is it exactly that keeps people coming back every week? What makes us all so willing to plug back in to a show that we’ve watched at least once before?

I think that the wild and free sort of timeline style is definitely a huge contributing factor to the love of the show. The writers obviously rely heavily on the element of suspense to drive the plot forward but take it in an interesting direction by making the question not “where are we going next” but rather “when are we going next.” After that first shift in the pilot episode, it’s clear that this show isn’t going to be just a run of the mill ‘good guy falls in with a bad crowd and hijinks ensue’ sort of plot. When the first episode ends, we see the characters one way. When the second begins, we see them a hop, skip, and a jump away from where we last left off in the slice of ending we are given, just one tasty bit of where their development is going, and then we’re put back where we left off. From there we can see the things that cause them to develop in to the person we saw at the 'end' of the episode.

It’s rough and it’s a bit dirty sometimes, but the jumping around really makes the show work. The grittiness is what the viewers want not because it’s new and spectacular, but because it’s real. We see real character progression in each episode and people can relate to that, can find a piece of themselves in how the characters on screen react to situations, even if they themselves would never end up selling drugs to provide for their family (or maybe they would, who knows, this is a no judgement blog). 

Here is a New Yorker parody of Downton Abbey and its obsession with death, for all of you to enjoy over spring break! 

Have We Jumped the Shark?

So season Three ended with quite a surprise, didn't it?

Abruptly, Matthew was snatched from us without any type of warning. Although otherwise, nearly every plot line seemed resolved- the estate was in good hands, all those of interest were married (or dead) (or Edith), Bates was back and happy, Thomas never left, etc. Which leaves the question: What else is there? How much longer can we follow the Downton Estate?

I can't imagine that we'll continue very much longer. The world is changing still quite drastically- I mean, it's now the scandalous, roaring twenties! The aristocracy cannot last that much longer. And who do we follow? Will we revisit the Abbey in twenty years, with a now eligible Sibyl and (what we can assume to be named) Matthew? In the midst of World War II? I doubt it.

Realistically, we'll pick up right where we left off. That's fine. The Abbey will be in mourning for a good while. What else will be new? Lady Rose, as the resident young hooligan, will try and steep the house in scandal- to no avail. Branson might be some ladykiller, or just fall off entirely. Downstairs, they'll be some tiff between Alfred and Jimmy, which will end with Daisy probably marrying one of them. Maybe Lord and Lady might divorce, alluded to by Shrimpy's sad marriage?

Most of those who I know watch the show say that their stay at Downton is over. I might agree. I can't see much more to do- I've wandered the halls enough.

Looking Forward: What's Next for Downton?

The almost-idyllic finale of Downton's third season, with its sharp turn at the last minute, has left its viewers with all sorts of things to contemplate as we await the next installment.

What will the unknowingly widowed Lady Mary do now that she has an heir but no husband? Will she remarry? It seems to me that killing off Matthew was a means of making Mary single and desirable again; once the audience thinks they can see how a character's future will go (in Mary's case the moment she married and intended to have children), they begin to lose interest in that character. Having Mary on the market again, her and her son's fates uncertain, will get the viewers back to the edge of their seats. Aside from the possibility of a romantic interest renewed, will Mary and Branson bond over the loss of their spouses? Will they raise their children side by side or will Branson eventually leave the wealthy world he is still so unaccustomed to?

There is no doubt in my mind that we will see a number of new staff members in season 4, as we have in the past three seasons. My guess would be that the nanny will get a lot more screen time as well, given that she now has two Granthamlets to look after. How will Lord Grantham react to losing the man he came to see as his son? Will the scheming, vindictive O'Brien be redeemed the way the now-dear Thomas was? (Or will she remain a cruel and malicious character who we love to hate and who will, to quote from class, die alone?) How will Thomas and Jimmy's newfound trust and companionship fare? How will the entire family and household deal with Matthew's death?

While we may not all end up watching the next season, I hope that at least a few of us continue to follow along. I know I will.

Reading too much into things..?

The ending of Lady Audley's Secret gives us a lot to consider. We can speculate, as we did on Tuesday in Madison that Lady Audley isn't actually dead and is in fact pretending in order to get out of a messy situation and work her way into a better one.

For that to be true though, I feel like it would depend on her kind of 'mad'. Is she simply upset about being abandoned, does she have postpartum depression, or is she actually a lunatic? If she is simply angry, I don't see her disappearing again, more likely her story has actually ended. If she s slightly unstable and upset about her circumstances, maybe she really did waste away—maybe she really was just tired, being a loon can really take a lot of a person. And can probably be linked to physical health factors that can lead or contribute to death. But if she is a full blown lunatic, a sociopath, then she very likely could have faked her death. She could very well be lurking around the corner of the story, waiting for everyone to be so distracted that we/they don't see her slip out and into a new story, full of new characters to terrorize. Or to live a new life, less complicated.

However, all of this speculation seems like just good fun, or silly on our part, like we are unhappy with the ending and thus we need to make up something more exciting. I personally like the ending of Lady Audley's Secret, even if it is a bit of a cop out...

"I hope that no one will take objection to my story because the end of it leaves the good people all happy and at peace" (Braddon 446).

Maybe, as suggested in Madison, peace is being used as a trick term and doesn't actually mean peace and is really alluding to something else. But maybe Braddon just wanted a happy ending and did the most convenient thing; killed off Lady Audley. It would not be the first nor would it be the last time a writer has done so. I guess it seems to me that after all the trauma, the characters deserve a happy ending, or maybe Braddon is just a sucker for happy endings too. Either way, I am in favor of taking the ending of Lady Audley's Secret at face value and accepting that she is probably not actually still alive and that everything has worked out in favor of happiness.

More Than One Secret?

"It is more than a year since a black-edged letter, written upon foreign paper, came to Robert Audley, to announce the death of a certain Madame Taylor, who had expired peacefully ay Villebrumeuse, dying after a long illness, which Monsieur Val describes as a maladie de langueur" (Braddon 445).

While our class was in Madison on Tuesday, someone brought up the idea that perhaps Lady Audley was actually alive at the end of Lady Audley's Secret.  This thought wormed it's way into my head and I began to think, "Why not?"  As we know from previously in the text, Lady Audley has successfully faked her death before to change her life and circumstances and what would stop her now?

Before the conclusion of Lady Audley's Secret, Lady Audley confesses all of the things that she has done to keep her identity secret and to maintain the style of life that she has chosen for herself.  For me that confession seemed like an ending of sorts - the secret was out and there was an answer for the mysteries that had been plaguing Robert Audley for most of the serial.  Despite some of the confession being false (though Lady Audley thought that she'd killed George Talboys), we would never have know that Lady Audley was wrong.

What if the secret is that Lady Audley didn't die peacefully of an illness referred to as "maladie de langueur" or as the footnote points out "anemia or general fatigue?"  Part of me wishes to believe that Braddon didn't leave it so cut and dry.  The "general fatigue" or the "wasting disease" that Lady Audley purportedly died of was Braddon's way of saying that she grew tired of her situation and moved on to a different one.  To me, dying just seems too tidy a thing.

Braddon concludes by saying, "I hope that no one will take objection to my story because the end of it leaves the good people all happy and at peace" (Braddon 446).  What about the "bad?"  Even if Braddon doesn't place Lady Audley in the "good" people category, perhaps Lady Audley isn't "at peace" because she still hasn't found the life or security that she has been searching for and she isn't dead (the idea of "rest in peace" as something we associate with the dead and being buried).  Her presence still haunts Audley Court because she hasn't found the place that she's meant to be.

What do you think?

The Biggest Cliffhanger

What I found most compelling about the finale, besides the obvious death of Matthew, was his death in placement to the episode. When I think cliffhanger, I think about a completely grave event happening on screen, a smash to black and then a wait until the next episode tells me the fate of the characters on screen. In this regard the cliffhanger I find most compelling is how Downton itself will deal with the death of Matthew, not Mary or any of the other inhabitants of the estate but the show itself.

Obviously Matthew is an integral character to the show, he progresses story lines and interacts with other characters as a main character should; he and Lady Mary's romance has become one of, if not the most, popular on the series. While his death is still raw to me, what I'm interested in now is seeing, come season four, how the show will continue to progress and evolve without one its of the key elements. Lady Mary, the baby, Downton itself, where will their fate lie as we move away from the “certainty” the finale tried very much to portray. The uncertainty that is sure to come following Matthew's death is poetic, it mirrors the uncertainty fans have in Downton's future.   

Cliffhangers

What else would we talk about?

Really, though, I'm sure that the rest of the episode was all fine and dandy in its own right - I recall a hilarious scene with Moseby, some heartwarming moments with Thomas (of all people), and I believe a wee bairn came into the mix at some point. It's just that, when a story does something like this - abruptly killing off a main character (and a "main" main character, at that) - there's rarely much else people talk about.

The effect is only amplified when the character is killed off at the end of an episode, because that's what people come away from the watching thinking about. And when it's at the end of a season, well...

Essentially, there are two ways such a move can go: well, or poorly. There's no middle ground, because, with a twist like this, an indifferent reaction from the audience is just as bad as an angry one - potentially worse, even. At least anger implies some degree of investment. The best case scenario is that the audience is horrified and saddened (make 'em gasp and cry, and all that), and cannot wait until the next installment to see what happens. How will the remaining characters react? Is character X even really dead? Sometimes, after all, these characters return in the most unlikely of ways. Of course, ideally this also creates even more tension in the audience simply because, if such an important character can die so suddenly, then this means that other characters can be bumped off, too, at any given moment. Now, for my part, I don't expect anyone to start saying "Valar Morghulis" or "only death is real" any time soon - ie, I doubt character are going to start dying off in droves at random or the show's themes are going to become excessively morbid - but the show has shown this season that it is capable of killing off characters to create tension, for better or for worse. Since it's not "Supernatural," the odds of these characters coming back are not high - this means that the show's formula and the way characters interact with one another can and will change with these and any following deaths. Change, whether or not we like it, is exciting; if the show can make good use of the deaths, it will continue to draw a large audience for this reason. If not, then it may be boarding the train for cancellation town sooner than expected.

What do Downton Abbey and Jane Austen fandom have in common? This blog post from  The Journal of Victorian Culture  may be of interest! We look forward to hearing from our bloggers about tonight's "Scotland episode"/ finale...

Lady Audley's Secret: Vol. 2 Ch 9 - Vol. 3

I was one of the last to sign up for a blog post, and I wasn't sure how I'd like doing a post on Lady Audley when I wrote my name down, but after reading this installment, I'm glad I did! These chapters contained a number of intense, suspenseful moments that were quite entertaining to read. 

The reading starts with Robert conducting more investigation into the matter of Helen Talboys' disappearance, which concludes with Robert determining that he has collected enough evidence to prove that Lady Audley and Helen are indeed one and the same—that is—at least enough evidence to finally confront Lady Audley face to face with plain language. No more letters or warnings. The gloves are coming off!

Robert's visit to Audley Court and Lady Audley's conversation with Sir Audley are probably my favorite parts of this section.

He arrives at Audley Court  and quickly finds a place where he can talk to Lady Audley alone.  The confrontation that follows is quite intense and loaded with tension. Lady Audley denies the accusation, obviously, but Robert made a very compelling case, compelling enough to convince Lady Audley that he was a real threat. Later on, in private, we see Lady Audley say something along the lines of, "if he were standing right here, I'd kill him."

Of course, Lady Audley can't allow Robert to reveal her secret, and there's a long section of conversation between Lady Audley and Sir Audley in which she tries to bias Sir Audley against Robert. 

I found it quite amusing how obvious her acting was, (although of course it would look obvious to the reader) and unfortunate that Sir Audley—blinded by his love for Lady Audley—began to believe her, because at first, Sir Audley came to the defense of Robert. He said that perhaps Robert wasn't the brightest of fellows, but surely he wasn't mad. But by the end of the conversation, Lady Audley's tears had at least convinced him to reconsider. 

It will be interesting to see to what lengths Lady Audley will go to to protect her secret. Will she follow through on her promise? Will she kill him? Will Robert bring her to justice? I guess we'll have to find out!

The Roar of the Twenties

Through 3.6 of Downton Abbey, we begin to see the various new tension in the house take place of the old tensions, during Autumn of 1920.  The "roaring twenties" have begun, and relationships, friendships, rivalries, the separation between "upstairs" and "downstairs" of the estate, and the imminent expansion are all being tested.  

One of the first tensions we are aware of is Tom wanting to give baby Sybil a proper Catholic baptism.  However, tension is initiated here by Robert's firm reluctance to this, because he did not have a Catholic upbringing.  However, the rest of the family, including Violent, push him to accept and attend the baptism.  We see that the rest of the family, except for Robert, is becoming more accepting of changes such as this. After Robert attends the baptism, more tension arises, but this time between Robert, Matthew, and Tom in terms of what to do with the Downton estate.  

It is evident throughout a lot of this episode that Robert feels and is out of the loop.  One time that we see this is through Mary and Matthew's fertility tensions.  Cora seems incredibly aware of Mary's issue, her small operation, and her reason for going to London, whereas Robert is completely unaware.  Indeed, this is because Mary potentially being infertile would be detrimental to Robert's traditional views of the continuance of Downton.

More tensions circulating around the estate are brought up as Matthew, Robert, and Tom decide how to approach it.  Matthew and Tom believe that Downton needs to change its approach to its land in order to accomadate to the changing times.  Even Violet, tending to be very reluctant to change, supports this, as well as supporting other non traditional things in this episode, such as Edith's employment.  However, Robert, with his traditional values, is stuck in the past and, for a long time, is reluctant to change.  Instead of this crisis, his focus is on the imminent cricket match.

Throughout the cricket match though, as the new permanent resident of Downton, Tom, tries to persuade Robert to focus on the future of the estate, Robert eases in.  The cricket match is worked into the show very nicely: to bring the whole group together, and to allow for focus on specific side conversations.  Finally, the cricket match, which started very disjointed, ends with Robert, Brandson, and Matthew embracing after a win, finally.  This allows us to think that change, collaboration, and good things are on the way for Downton.

Favorite quote of the episode: 

Violet: “It seems a pity to miss such a good pudding.”