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patroklaI was feeling extremely sorry for myself this morning, so I decided to watch "The World in the Walls," which is - was, pre-finale - a weird bit of comfort TV. I like(d) the literally nightmarish portrayal of a mental hospital, I like(d) even more that Quentin escapes it, with the help of his friends. I like(d) that level of ambiguity that the episode brings to Quentin's relationship with sex - that part of his nightmare was being stuck with people who were his friends, but now were only interested in sleeping with him (and pills). That episode was the one that made the show click for me. I'd been on the fence before that, liking the characters a bit, disliking some of the more graphic violence, worrying about how the show would handle mental health issues...but in that one episode, everything seemed to come together perfectly.
Anyway, I watched the episode. I'm a little embarrassed to say that I teared up a bit, watching Quentin look around the hospital and insist that this isn't his life - this can't be his life. I watched Quentin, who I've been feeling all sorts of hurt/angry/betrayed feelings towards, and felt incredibly tender and fond towards him, all over again. He's very young, and very bad at dealing with a lot of things, and he still chooses to keep trying to live. He gets the option between the lovely blank void and living and...he chooses to live.
Anyway, immediately after that I wrenched 1000 words of Quentin-centered sadness out of my head, and I am feeling, well. All sorts of things, but very fond of Quentin, again. I also read the first Magicians book over the weekend, which might have something to do with it (I liked book!Q more than I thought I would, but show!Q is in a class of his own). And I'm writing Quentin again, which is great news for my WIPs, although I am feeling comfortable wading around writing Eliot, so....might stick with that for a while longer. We'll see! It's nice to have untangled this particular mess a bit.
Anyway, I watched the episode. I'm a little embarrassed to say that I teared up a bit, watching Quentin look around the hospital and insist that this isn't his life - this can't be his life. I watched Quentin, who I've been feeling all sorts of hurt/angry/betrayed feelings towards, and felt incredibly tender and fond towards him, all over again. He's very young, and very bad at dealing with a lot of things, and he still chooses to keep trying to live. He gets the option between the lovely blank void and living and...he chooses to live.
Anyway, immediately after that I wrenched 1000 words of Quentin-centered sadness out of my head, and I am feeling, well. All sorts of things, but very fond of Quentin, again. I also read the first Magicians book over the weekend, which might have something to do with it (I liked book!Q more than I thought I would, but show!Q is in a class of his own). And I'm writing Quentin again, which is great news for my WIPs, although I am feeling comfortable wading around writing Eliot, so....might stick with that for a while longer. We'll see! It's nice to have untangled this particular mess a bit.
