impalementation

SPIKE: [He walks to the crucifix at the altar.] She shall look on him with forgiveness, and everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved. [He stands before the crucifix, staring at it.] So everything's okay, right? [He embraces the crucifix, and his body begins to smoke.] Can we rest now? Buffy? Can we rest? - Buffy the Vampire Slayer 7x02 "Beneath You"

Here's Sonya's full monologue, though the most relevant part is at the end:

SONYA: What's to be done, we must go on living! [Pause] We shall go on living, Uncle Vanya. We shall live through a long, long chain of days and endless evenings; we shall patiently bear the trials fate sends us; we'll work for others, now and in our old age, without ever knowing rest, and when our time comes, we shall die submissively; and there, beyond the grave, we shall say that we have suffered, that we have wept, and have known bitterness, and God will have pity on us; and you and I, Uncle, dear Uncle, shall behold a life that is bright, beautiful, and fine. We shall rejoice and look back on our present troubles with tenderness, with a smile--and we shall rest. I have faith, Uncle, I have fervent, passionate faith... [Kneeling before him, lays her head on his hand; in a weary voice] We shall rest! [TELYEGIN softly plays the guitar.] We shall rest! We shall hear the angels, and see the heavens all sparkling like jewels; we shall see all earthly evil, all our sufferings, drowned in a mercy that will fill the whole world, and our life will grow peaceful, gentle, sweet as a caress. I have faith, I have faith... [Wipes away his tears with a handkerchief.] Poor, poor Uncle Vanya, you're crying... [Through tears] You have had no joy in your life, but wait, Uncle Vanya, wait... We shall rest... [Puts her arms around him.] We shall rest! [The WATCHMAN taps; TELYEGIN plays softly; MARIA VASILYEVNA makes notes on the margin of her pamphlet; MARINA knits her stocking.] We shall rest! The Curtain Falls Slowly - Uncle Vanya, Anton Chekhov (trans. Ann Dunnigan)

Uncle Vanya is a story of ennui and disappointment with life. The titular Vanya and his niece Sonya have spent their lives dedicated to supporting Sonya's father Serebryakov, a celebrated academic, at the expense of their own yearnings and ambitions in life. Over the course of the play, both experience disappointment in romantic love. They are also shocked by Serebryakov's intention to sell the estate they have poured their lives and funds into, without regard for the precarious position it will leave them in. Near the climax of the play, Vanya attempts and impotently fails to kill both Serebryakov and himself. Sonya and Vanya end the play where they began, toiling and romantically alone. On the surface, Sonya's monologue is a spiritually optimistic exhortation to endure and hope in the face of unrewarding drudgery. But it also highlights the bleak inability of the characters to change their circumstances on their own.

"When done well it’s not just Vanya who weeps. Through an act of will, the thing that has most afflicted them – drudgery – can be embraced. The (religious) reward is loaded with paradox: in death they will find rest, and new life. Whether or not you believe in God, it’s bleak yet the repeated phrases (“We shall rest!”, “I have faith”) have a persuasive force of uplift, tolling like a bell." - Dominic Cavendish, The Telegraph

The connections to Buffy are numerous. Like Buffy, Uncle Vanya depicts the existential dilemma: How to carry on in the face of cosmic indifference? If your lot is drudgery, how do you keep going? Throughout the show, Buffy experiences slaying as an often dreary, inescapable fate, one which she has to imbue with her own meaning instead of expecting recognition or the approval of authorities or institutions. In seasons five and six this metaphorical slog is made more human and literal as Buffy struggles to continue on with the everyday aspects of being an adult. Buffy gets her rest at the end of season five, but heaven only ends up being a false, temporary respite--she has to keep going.

Freshly ensouled, Spike in "Beneath You" is newly aware of the existential struggle. Like Vanya and Sonya, Spike has been romantically disappointed and disillusioned, and can no longer rely on it as a source of meaning. It parallels Buffy's own disillusionments when it comes to both romance and Romance (for more on this if curious, there's my unfinished romanticism series). Furthermore, now that he can make true moral choices, Spike is faced with the prospect of having to keep on making them--day after day after day--and living with the consequences. He now truly understands that, due to his actions, a chance with Buffy is impossible--that his labors, with Buffy in mind, like Vanya and Sonya with Serebryakov, cannot reward him--that his romantic and heroic narratives of himself are pathetic, broken. Now he'll have to find some other reason to keep on making choices, and it will be a thankless, unending task.

But the scene also inverts aspects of Sonya's monologue in interesting ways, making it both more and less optimistic. As a text, Buffy is not underwritten by any kind of religious or spiritual faith. Where Sonya puts God ("God will have pity on us"), Spike puts Buffy ("She shall look on him with forgiveness"), and this invocation of deity is more clearly ironic in Spike's case. He proceeds to drape himself on a cross, a Christian symbol, and the fact that it burns him emphasizes the inability of formal religion to provide the absolution or direction or reprieve he might crave. In general, the religious imagery in the church scene, the basic image of an empty church, supports the idea that this is a scene about the struggle for meaning. What does it mean to crave redemption if there's no God (or Buffy) to grant it to you?

What is left, instead, is the human ability to provide such things. On the one hand, in Buffy, one cannot have faith in even a bleak hope of spiritual reprieve. But on the other hand, there is a hope and belief in people's capacity for agency and change. As always, any given scene should ultimately be tied back to Buffy's story, especially when the scene is a dramatic centerpiece between Buffy and Spike--who, like the other major characters, has paralleled her throughout the show. I think it's very significant that this scene comes so early in the season. It restates, via Spike, Buffy's own struggle for meaning and agency within the Slayer fate, adult existence, and Romantic ideas that bound her. It re-establishes that this is one of the show's most central ideas, something to be re-explored throughout the season and resolved--in some way--by the end. (Which I think it is. There are a lot of connections between this scene and Buffy and Spike's final scene in "Chosen." Spike's sacrifice, done without stated belief in Buffy's love, suggests achievement of some internal locus of meaning. He burns with purpose, instead of on a cross. This parallels Buffy's triumph over the first and sharing the Slayer power. She no longer burns on the cross of self-hatred, or slogging away at an isolated fate.)

Of course, as ever, I don't know for sure whether or not Vanya was a direct influence or reference. I would say it's fairly likely. I wasn't able to find anything direct on the subject. All I was able to turn up was that Joss Whedon (who wrote and directed that scene) had not seen The Seagull--another Chekhov play--until ca 2007, which doesn't exactly help my thesis, lol. But I will say Vanya is probably the more famous play, and Whedon has a documented love of theater, given "Once More, With Feeling" and the Shakespeare readings hosted at his house and such. Also, Vanya on 42nd Street, a classic performance of the play, was released in 1994. The modern, stripped-down rendition of Vanya in that movie has aspects in common with Whedon's version of Much Ado About Nothing. Here's Sonya's monologue from that Vanya. The delivery of "We shall rest" is simple and restrained, closer to Spike's delivery of "Can we rest" than a more ecstatic Sonya performance.

The church scene, also for reference:

interesting to compare the handling of the physicality of death in the most recent succession ep with the handling in buffy’s ‘the body’. ‘the body’ is extremely physical. joyce’s corpse opens and closes each act. buffy is the one who has to perform cpr, and sit with her mother’s body in a bag in her living room. she vomits. she cracks a rib. xander punching a wall, the kiss between willow and tara, the hugs the characters exchange in the hospital--the physicality is constant and arresting. (which makes the closing shot of dawn’s hand never quite touching joyce all the more harrowing).

by contrast, we only barely see logan’s body in ‘connor’s wedding’. the siblings are miles away from him. his body is literally in the air, ungrounded. some stranger is performing cpr, not them. and all they can do is listen and demand ineffectually, through the proxy of tom’s usual gormless editorializing. even at the moment of their father’s death--a moment that the grand physicality of mortal existence might touch them--they are insulated from it. even now, they don’t know the price of milk. even death is a penthouse in the sky above the city rabble. even during this most serious of events they can’t quite be what logan might think of as ‘serious people.’ (and even now, of course, it’s hard not to see that distance as mostly logan’s own doing. even now, when death has caught up to him, logan isn’t any more touchable. but in a far different way than dawn with joyce. ‘that’s dad’, says roman, pointing at a chart on a screen.).

nothing is physical except--and here seems to be the glimmering thread of hope throughout the series--in the relationships between the siblings. the various hugs between them, especially the last one between kendall, roman, and shiv. kendall and shiv holding hands. kendall touching roman’s back, roman touching shiv’s. this is one of the only places the physical exists in their lives, and in this episode they express it towards each other more easily, with less irony or pretense, than i think they’ve done at any point so far in the show.

Hm, honestly I'm not really all that familiar enough with fan opinion to know whether people are more consistently on Buffy or Faith's side in those two instances. If the difference does exist, I imagine it might have to do with the difference in expectations for Buffy and Faith's characters. Because Buffy is the hero, it's much more emotionally and psychologically dissonant for audience members to see her behaving in a ‘non-heroic’ way (just as it is for Buffy herself!). Whereas because Faith is not interpreted as a moral example, but instead as someone struggling with morality, she isn’t held to the same standard. Her moral lapses are easier to respond to sympathetically because they’re not being experienced as a betrayal. 

Have you ever looked at the AtPO website/forum archives ?

There are some amazing discussions there! Including a Jungian who posted under the name manwitch with a fascinating series on season 1 called Buffy's Spiritual Journey. As far as anyone can tell this dude was the first to apply the Primeval logic of heart/mind/spirit/hands to the whole show.

There is also a rewatch thread unfolding slowly on Buffyforums.net that contains some gems, especially from the posters Local Max and Stateofsiege97.

It's always a special thrill to discover someone else who has thought as much about this show. Take care please and know that you have a new reader/viewer.

Thank you so much for the kind message! I did indeed browse through the AtPO website a while back, and found much of interest. But it's been years at this point. I clearly forgot the post you've mentioned, but I'll check it out! I've definitely enjoyed reading through some of the buffyforums rewatch threads as well--mainly season six, it being my personal hobby horse.

Oh that's an interesting question! It's hard to say, exactly. Honestly, there isn't really a rational reason for the preference I can back things up with. If pressed, I don’t really think one is better than the other--they’re good in different ways. Part of it might be nostalgia. I saw Serenity first, in theaters, because I was obsessed with Buffy at the time (the more things change), and didn't watch Firefly until much later. It was 2005, and I was young, so it didn't occur to me to pirate the show then. And it wasn't available to rent where I was. So I'd already sort of imprinted on Serenity before I got to watch Firefly.

But beyond that, if I had to try to put it into words...I think it might be down to a couple things. First, I really like completed stories. As is pretty obvious from this blog, art is something I enjoy a lot from a theoretical perspective, and that’s been the case even from when I was very young. And it’s just easier to respond to a work when it’s complete, both analytically and emotionally. So because Serenity represents more of a complete idea than Firefly does I think on some level it’s easier for me to interact with. When I watch Serenity I feel like I had a specific artistic experience. Not just because it’s trying to resolve some of the plot and ideas from Firefly, but because by virtue of being a discrete, two-hour theatrical release, it has to be self-contained to some degree--in terms of both story and idea. Whereas because Firefly didn’t even get to finish its first season, all of its ideas, while intriguing, are sort of left hanging. I’m just not the kind of person who likes things purely on the strength of things like character attachment, so the fact that Firefly gives me a longer runtime in that world isn’t enough for me to prefer it. Between Firefly and Dollhouse I’d actually say that I prefer Dollhouse for similar reasons. I enjoy the characters and world of Firefly much more than those of Dollhouse, and even think a lot of the execution is probably stronger, but Dollhouse got to finish more of its ideas, and so I get more out of rewatching it.

Aside from that, I just enjoy so many of Serenity’s scenes and moods and setpieces. They’re all burned into my brain in this very iconic way that not much from Firefly is (though again, possibly just because I saw it at a much more impressionable age). The “iconic” factor of things is something I respond to strongly, so the fact that so many moments from it made such a memorable impression makes me feel very fondly about it. And is the main reason it has a higher rewatch value.

With all of them wearing “a costume” and trying to perform a “role” and using that to cope with their feelings of inadequacy by trying to define themselves as the anti-Buffy:

If Buffy was a hero, that meant they were a villain someone in opposition to her, but all of it was just performative.

And it was also incredible ironic because Buffy wasn’t even the perfect hero they all thought she was, she like them was a flawed person with different aspects of her character defining her all at once

I found the post I was looking for!

vague idea for a meta on angelus, dark willow, the trio and faith, and how they’re all villains who have a personal antagonism towards buffy. they’re all characters that are, to one degree or another, role-playing villainy and cast buffy as the hero in their bad-guy theater.

Yeah it's quite interesting. Though I think the specifics of what Xander's feelings about Angel, Spike and Riley means depends on context.

Ahh, thank you so much!! I'm sorry it took me a while to reply to this, I've been avoiding tumblr at the moment, but it means a ton to me. It makes me really happy to know that my thoughts on the show made someone else feel less alone, because feeling alone in my own thoughts on the show was one of the reasons I started the blog in the first place. (And perhaps like you, my feelings on season six were definitely ones I felt particularly alone in. It’s been nice in the last few years to see increasing numbers of people talking about loving and appreciating that season.)