The Qunari Strike Back, Chapter One

So, probably NOT keeping the title. But, for now it tickles my geek bone.
Additionally, this is only a snippet from the first chapter. I like this story. I am also writing it in my somewhat-less-than-copious spare time.  

Dragon Age is owned by BioWare, David Gaider, Felicia Day (Tallis) etc. etc. All the characters belong to their respective owners. I’m just making them dance like puppets for my own amusement and yours. So, while the world & characters belong to someone else, the action and story are mine.

 

Chapter One

Miriam Hawke rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable sleeping position. Even through the thick bed hangings, she could hear ice as it smashed against the shutters, thrown by screaming wind. An icy storm had clamped around the city two days ago, disrupting trade and travel. Unless otherwise required, most people huddled in their homes, trying to stay dry and warm. On the upside, when she did go out, far fewer people and random ambushes. On the downside, forced into constant contact with one another, the populace had turned murderously ugly. Tempers – already at the breaking point from recent events – flared violently and often. She figured Aveline would be handling at least a dozen knifings from all over the city tomorrow morning. Even Hightown wasn’t immune to the crazy.

Winter in Kirkwall is definitely a trial. Not as cold as home; not by a longshot. But, the constant damp makes it feel worse than it actually is.

The banshee howl of the wind cranked up another octave. Even from where she huddled under the plush velvet of her comforter, she could hear her dog barking at the storm. The mabari’s deep-voiced baying carried perfectly up the stairs to her chamber. Between the noise and her worry for Anders, sleep was damn near impossible. She’d sent every household blanket that could be spared with him to his clinic. Hopefully, it would make a difference. From within her warm cocoon, she heard the shutters rattle as the wind pummeled them again. A cold draft flowed across her toes.

Wait. My toes?

Hawke scrambled up from under the covers. A pretty elf in green leather armor lounged against one of the wooden posts at the foot of the bed. Firelight picked out copper glints in her dark hair. Wide, guileless gray eyes regarded her with mock-solemnity. Hawke glanced down. A throwing dagger propped up the end of the blanket.

“Hi. Did you miss me?”

Hawke sighed. “Hello, Tallis. You want to tell me why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand?”

“For one? I doubt you could. For two? I…umm… I might need your help. Again.”

Hawke rolled her eyes and sat up in the bed, drawing the bedspread firmly around her legs. “Shocking.”

“I promise this time that I will tell you everything right up front.” Tallis sat down on the end of the bed.

Hawke snorted in disbelief.

“Please, just listen to me?”

Hawke dropped her head into her hands. “Varric is going to crucify me. If Anders doesn’t beat him to it. What, Tallis? Why have you broken into my home in the middle of the night, in the middle of a winter storm? What could be so blighted important?”

“I’ve,” Tallis stopped. Her head drooped until she stared mournfully at her own hands. “I’ve left the Qun. My role isn’t ‘Tallis’ anymore. I guess you can just call me ‘Tal’ for now.” A bitter smile crossed her features and was gone. “I suppose I don’t have to tell you what it’s short for.”

“Tal-Vashoth.” Sometimes, only Anders’ pungent phrasing was appropriate. “Andraste’s knicker-weasels! What changed? Last we spoke you were completely dedicated to those bastards.”  Hawke’s stomach soured.  “What have you done?”

Fall of the House of Poe

As promised, here is the slide show presentation I did for class.1

Below it are the notes I wrote for each slide.  Exciting, no?
During the actual presentation, I wound up sort of extemporizing from instead of reading directly off the notes.

 

 

<COVER SLIDE>
For my paper and presentation, I chose Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher to thematically, psychologically, and biographically analyze.  As you might imagine, these themes are twined around one another like vines; where one leaves off, another picks up.

<SLIDE TWO>
However, while talking to a couple of my more literary frou-frou1friends, I mentioned that I had chosen Poe and his House of Usher as my research subject. Reactions were less than thrilled, overall.

I have liked and admired Poe’s writing since my high school days.

He was a talented and very prolific author. Over the course of his 22-year career he wrote: one novel, over 50 poems, one poem in a play format, over 60 short stories and numerous essays, news articles, and literary critiques.

He wrote in a variety of styles, not just the Gothic horror that most people know. He wrote one of the first modern science fiction stories and he is credited as the Father of modern detective novels. In fact, Sherlock Holmes is based off a character in a Poe story: C. Auguste Dupin.

This is not counting his letter writing – of which there is a tremendous amount. The U.S. Postal service was the Facebook of that time. As one of the very first writers who struggled to earn his living by writing, he often wrote to friends and family to ask for money, love, or both.

But other than scholars and me, who even enjoys his work?

<SLIDE THREE>
Just those crazy Goth kids …oops, wrong Goths….

<SLIDE FOUR>
Just those crazy Goth kids are into that depressing stuff, right?
Actually, that isn’t true. Human’s fascination with the dark– something that Poe did very well – is pretty universal.

What is GOTHIC?

<SLIDE FIVE>

As it turns out, Gothic covers a pretty wide landscape. The actual definition is listed on your handout. But, the short version is a written landscape wherein the fantastically dread can occur.

Americans love their Gothic literature. Faulkner’s A Rose for Emily is considered Gothic. So is Hitchcock’s Psycho and Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

<SLIDE SIX>
One of Poe’s mainstays in his Gothic writing was the use of the grotesque; that is, to purposefully arouse shock and disgust in his readers. He lured them into a story by capturing their mind’s eye with images of death, of decay and rot; mingling them within them a sense of ethereal beauty.

GROTESQUE:  An artistic style that is intended to cause fascination by using images that cause dismay & revulsion.
It’s the car wreck phenomenon. You aren’t supposed to look; you don’t really *WANT* to look. But you do it anyway.

Humans love a dichotomy. Death and life. Love and hate. Rot and growth. It’s all a way to make something frightening and mysterious, less so.

I could go into several other examples: Jung’s Great Mother archetype with her destructive/nurturing tendencies. The Kali Ma, Beautiful Destroyer. The Republican party. There are examples everywhere. Even in places you wouldn’t normally think to look.    CLICK “Mostly” link.

But, I only have 25 minutes and I have yet to get to the meat of the paper.

<SLIDE SEVEN>
So, that’s why I chose Poe. But, given that he has been analyzed, over-analyzed, even-Freud would say “enough with zee analyzation!” – what could I do that hadn’t already been done?

<SLIDE EIGHT>

THESIS TIME!!

<SLIDE NINE>
First, the story itself is a katabasis; the ‘narrator’ journeys through the dark underbelly of the House of Usher, both literally and figuratively, during his stay there. He is a witness to the madness and downfall of his host, Roderick Usher as well as the implosion of the house, itself.

I’m not going to play the video this in its entirety – I’ve linked it in the handout if you want to see it later. But, I thought it was a nifty take on the ultimate journey through the Underworld to knowing. He starts off, and things just get weirder and more dangerous as he goes. Eventually, he reaches the end and is rewarded.
Usually, the reward of katabasis is knowledge. However, in order for this to occur, an anabasis must happen as well. Anabasis is the return journey with the prize.

<SLIDE TEN>

One of the ways that I believe Poe used the story of Usher as an allegory for his own life is through the use of use of metafiction.

What IS metafiction, you ask? Glad you asked.

According to Patricia Waugh, it is “…a term given to fictional writing which self-consciously and systematically draws attention to its status as an artefact [sic] in order to pose questions about the relationship between fiction and reality.”

Although it has been around since Homer’s Odyssey, it didn’t really get a full head of steam as a literary trope until the 1960’s. The term wasn’t even in use until 1970.

So, if it wasn’t in vogue or much use at the time, how could it be present in Usher?

In actuality, it was in a number of his works: The Imp of the Perverse, and  Ligeia are both thought to be metafictional in nature.

Although it may have been subconscious in nature – and without really being able to quiz Poe on it, we might never know for sure – I do have my doubts. He was an extremely precise writer. As I mentioned, he authored more than one essay on the mechanics of writing. The parallels one finds in Usher might certainly be intentional. But to what purpose?

<SLIDE ELEVEN>

(Heh. It goes to ‘eleven’.)

NARRATOR: is the voice and speaker of a story. In theory, this character is supposed to be separate from the author, himself.

However, in the case of much of his work, the narrator is often a thinly disguised Poe.

Poe, due to a variety of psychological reasons, mirrored himself in the story the narrator, Roderick Usher, as well as the House itself.

This slide shows both a quote from “Usher”, describing Roderick; and a watercolor done of Poe when he was around 35 years old. This was during one of Poe’s more prosperous moments and shows him in far better adult health than he had enjoyed since his college days.

One of his contemporaries said, “I distinctly recall his face, with its ample forehead, brilliant eyes, and narrowness of nose and chin; an essentially ideal face, not noble, yet anything but coarse, with the look of oversensitiveness [sic] which when uncontrolled may prove more debasing that coarseness. It was a face to rivet one’s attention in any crowd; yet a face that no one would feel safe in loving. . . .”

You can see the similarities between the description(s) and the image.

In later years, he would adopt the mustache that most people today picture when they think of him.

<SLIDE TWELVE>

Poe can also be seen in the physical House, too. He even describes the House as one would a creature; imbuing it with a sinister aspect.

Although at first it appears sound, if somewhat menacing, the House is slowly disintegrating. Either the madness of the people within it – Poe’s voices, maybe? – or the disinterest of care of same, cause the House to be a slowly self-destructing object.

Poe was often his own worst enemy. In spite of a ferocious talent, he was prone to binge drinking, an air of superiority, callousness in dealing with others, jealousy when working with other writers, and an instability within his personal life. Although he was always neatly dressed and presented, he was more often than not, slowly falling apart.
<SLIDE THIRTEEN>

Poe’s life was a series of ill luck, missed opportunities, and self-sabotage. Usher is a Romanticized portrait of a suffering artist being driven slowly mad by a too-loud, too obnoxious, and not nearly refined enough world.

One of the main parallels that I will go over in my research paper is the death by consumption (tuberculosis) of almost every important woman in Poe’s life. His birth mother, his adoptive mother, and his wife – all die young, of consumption  after lingering illnesses. All of these women were pale, large eyed, dark haired women.

In spite of his attempts to control his environment, both Roderick and Poe lose the women they love (Poe often called his wife “Sissie”) to a wasting disease. This loss, in turn, eventually kills them.

 

 

 

1 – See: Hipsters, Literary Snobs

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On ageism and why you all can get off my fucking lawn.

I have a test in Personality Psychology in about 2 hours. I need to study a bit more to make sure that I have the vagaries of Freud’s cocaine-dipped, fame-chasing nonsense all straight in my head. Otherwise, this post’d be quite a bit longer.

As ‘tis, I will likely return to this topic because, WTH is wrong with some people?!

Ahem.

On Facebook this morning, I saw a post by a women’s sweat equity group (The Sweaty Betties, if you’re inclined to look them up) stating:

Pictured: Way more dedication to exercise than I have.

“No matter what your opinion of Madonna… she sure has taken damn good care of herself!”

With which I agree. She has – at least for the past decade, many more – worked very hard on her physical body.

However, the comments were more than a bit infuriating:

“Must be nice to be able to have all that money! Look, so plastic!”
“LOL, plastic surgery!”
“Ew, old thighs!”
Etcetera, etcetera.

All the money in the world can’t buy a healthy body. That is the result of setting a course for yourself and sticking to it. Also? The whole “ick, she’s old!” does not, in fact, erase said hard work or make her less than what she is. Additionally, she’s what?  50-something?

I run into this sort of thing at school, albeit not because I look like Madonna. It’s more, “Why’re you in college, sucking up all the learning in the room, you old person, you?”

*snarl, gibber, snarl*

Yes. Definitely coming back to this topic when I have some time.