💤ee

I feel like, no matter what long paragraphs or thematic complexity I can tease out of Luo Binghe and his characterization, his character arc and journey, no amount of words I write can beat @blackelement7's one-sentence summation of his character, which is: it's hard to be Luo Binghe

and really, much of SVSSS revolves around the deconstruction of narrative and character tropes--like, literally. (Shen Yuan as) Shen Qingqiu dismantles the ludicrously hackneyed and exaggerated plot of PIDW and accidentally puts it back together in a different shape just by, y'know, existing and being -- get ready for this -- a decent person

so Luo Binghe fits into this whole agenda by deconstructing a familiar archetype of the masculine, heroic protagonist--virile, undefeatable, hopelessly attractive, naturally talented, beloved of fate/happenstance/coincidence, unique and unlikely inheritor of multiple legacies, gifted with unrealistic sexual prowess. he has the tragic orphan origin story, the bitterly cruel and traumatic youth, then the vengeful return, the eventual violent triumph over those who had wronged him, his """happy""" ending of supreme power and supreme sexual satisfaction and supreme unbeatability

or at least, that's the original Luo Binghe

MXTX takes this larger-than-life legendary figure and shows us his hidden shadows, his deep insecurities, the flaws that have been expunged by the demands of readers and narrative (and oh boy does this book have things to say about the relationship between the author and the consumer). she takes the original Luo Binghe (and by extension, the entire stallion genre) gently by the hand and asks, have you found love?

I have a harem of hundreds of beautiful women, the original Luo Binghe replies.

have you found satisfaction? MXTX asks.

I rule the entire world, both human and demonic realms, he replies.

are you happy? MXTX asks, and cruelly, crucially--the original Luo Binghe cannot answer yes, and have that be true

MXTX takes every aspect of the original Luo Binghe and systematically subverts it: his virility is undercut by the fact that the person of his affections prefers Luo Binghe's younger, innocent self, not the virile, manly man that maidens ostensibly swoon over. Luo Binghe's undefeatability and ridiculous talents are undercut by the fact that no amount of strength, or power, or influence, will get him what he truly wants -- Shen Qingqiu's genuine love and affection. in the original PIDW, the goddamn trauma congo line that Luo Binghe gets put through only makes him stronger, laying the foundation of his eventual, triumphant, vengeful return. but in SVSSS, we see all the ways that Luo Binghe's trauma doesn't make him stronger -- in fact, leads him to incredible levels of insecurity and self-sabotage and self-hatred

or, in short:

PIDW: I've done it, I've crafted the perfect stallion novel protagonist

MXTX, busily typing: no you haven't, you've fucked up a perfectly nice young man is what you've done. look at him, he's got enough trauma to cause the apocalypse

a lot of our understanding of Luo Binghe is filtered through the lens of Shen Qingqiu, who is one of the most unreliable narrators I've ever had the privilege of laughing at. much of Shen Qingqiu's character arc in the novel is coming to realize that the people around him -- Luo Binghe, yes, but also Yue Qingyuan, Liu Qingge, all the women previously dismissed as love interests, and even, eventually, Shen Jiu -- are actually people too, not just flat fictional characters, but individuals with agendas and feelings and unwritten histories of their own. Shen Qingqiu is so preoccupied (and rightfully so!) with his fate and foreknowledge of the plot that he fails to notice for a comically long time that the plot has changed on him while he was busy jumping to conclusions about what certain people must be thinking

but back to Luo Binghe. the novel takes Luo Binghe's intense traumas and fears -- abandonment, self-loathing, rejection and very real hurt -- and makes them matter. past suffering doesn't just build character to make you stronger in the future -- you have to come to terms with it first, gain closure, let the wound heal over before you can safely build upon it. and despite having loyal subordinates, despite having more love interests than he can shake a evil sword at, Luo Binghe has no one to truly, emotionally support him

all those people flocking around him, all those women (allegedly) trying to sleep with him, and Luo Binghe doesn't have a single friend

the original PIDW would have you believe that's indicative of his strength and independence, his ability to stand alone. a Man (TM). MXTX takes one look at that and calls bullshit

or, in other words:

PIDW: I've done it, I've crafted the ultimate male fantasy

MXTX, typing faster: no you haven't, you've subscribed to toxic masculinity is what you've done. you created a lonely, overpowered young man who only knows how to deal with his problems through violence. look at him, he's got abandonment issues and unhealthy masochistic tendencies

(masochism is fine! but someone needs to gently pull Luo Binghe back into the realm of kink rather than deliberate self-harm, and while we're at it someone please give this man a hug without also detonating at the same time)

SVSSS takes the unrealistic, overperfected model of an archetypal male protagonist and shows us all the ways this person (and this model) is broken. the text constantly cracks jokes about 'the protagonist halo,' but for much of the book, Luo Binghe is never allowed to be a person--he is always The Protagonist, the half-demon spawn, the existential threat to the human cultivation world, and Luo Binghe’s continual dehumanization breaks him. and guess what? the eventual resolution of the conflict comes from nothing more and nothing less than Shen Qingqiu showing kindness. was it messy and fraught as hell? you fucking bet it was. but was the underlying message of the entire story also as simple as "but the villain needs love too!" you fucking bet it was.

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“I mean, hell, what if he got hit by a bus? Anyone can die, any time. Think of me as a big angry red bus.” Tim’s eyes on him feel like burning, but not so immediate as fire. More like the warning heat of sunburn: for now a faint prickling, for weeks after an ache. “End of the day? I don’t think he should be alive. I don’t think the state should get to decide who lives and who dies, but I’m not the state. And I know people can be rehabilitated. I know there’s a chance he could change, and never do it again, and spend the rest of his days saving kittens and helping little old ladies cross the street. But from what I’ve seen, this kinda guy, we’re talking a puny fucking chance. There’s people the system fails and people who could be helped by a better system and then there’s people who aren’t gonna fucking change. They’re just gonna keep doing awful shit, because it gets them off. Hurting kids. Hurting anyone they think is less powerful, or less of a person. Fuck that. The thing is, I know they’re people. And I’m a person too. And I don’t have the fucking right. To be the arbiter of fucked-up justice or whatever. But you know what? I can’t find it in me to give a shit. If those scumbags wanna kill me back, they can have at it, that’s their prerogative. Until then, some fuck rapes a five-year-old? No, fuck that. What if he does it again? He’s already done it. Hurt that kid forever. Snuffed out that thing inside them, whatever it is that makes kids think the world isn’t a shitshow. Can’t unring that fucking bell. Why should he—once was too many! Don’t you get it? That kinda guy—once was already too many! Why should he get to do it twice? And so fucking many of ‘em do it twice. Can’t keep your hands off a little kid? Fuck you. Headshot. Problem solved. You can’t change my mind about this, Red. I didn’t make the choice to kill people on a fucking whim. I thought about Hell and decided I’m up for it. Alright? Fuck off.” 

“You don’t have to convince me.” 

“And another thing—” His mouth clicks shut. “I—what?” 

“I said you don’t have to convince me.” Tim examines his glass, tilting the last swallow of watery gin back and forth. “If I were going to argue with you, I suppose I’d quote a statistic about how something like 93% of childhood sexual abuse is perpetuated from within the immediate family, and killing the abuser could drastically destabilize the child’s living situation and potentially place them at risk for other types of harm—”

“There’s nothing stable about—!”

“—but I’m not going to argue with you, because I don’t want to, because frankly I don’t care. I should—some days I’m better, and I do—but I don’t at the moment. Not tonight.” 

Jason stares at him for long enough that Tim grows visibly uncomfortable, shoulders stiffening. 

“What,” he says, eyes darting up to Jason’s, then away. His long fingers never stop playing with the glass, rolling it slowly, tracing the same wet circle on the tabletop. Jason wishes he would just finish his drink. And hold still. 

“You don’t care,” Jason repeats. “Great. Namaste. So what’s with the interrogation?”

“Interr—?” Tim looks startled. “Jason, I was asking.”

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