#neverafter analysis

Ylfa. Gerard. The Baron.

Bravery and cowardice being two sides of the same coin.

In a world literally designed to be horror-esque, it's no surprise that so many of our characters struggle with fear. I mean, from the get-go Gerard is labeled- both in-story and out-of-story- as a coward. Hiding and running away with the women and children, ignoring outside threats in a desperate attempt to cling to the comforts of high society. But is that all he is? We've seen him directly put himself in harm's way on the battlefield. We've witnessed him try and fail and pick himself back up again. There are moments- real definitive moments- where Gerard's bravery shines through.

Ylfa seems like the quintessential brave heroine. Mowing down enemies, sticking up for her friends, having the courage to slam that axe down and do the unthinkable in order to survive. But fear does not escape even her. I'm still thinking about that one scene at the Auroratory, where Ylfa is terrorized not by some external menace, but by the fear that the blame for her situation lies deep within herself: endemic, volatile, inescapable, and utterly unfixable. I wouldn't necessarily call that cowardice. But it is a moment where the veil of the beast falls away and leaves behind only a painfully young, scared girl sobbing in solitude.

The Baron. So quick to correct Rosamund's conflation of survival with bravery. Even he himself is aware that all his innovations were products of fear dampened by grief. That fear of Death itself, both its corporeal form as the Wolf and its general existence as a part of reality, was something he could not and would not turn around and face head on. So much so he would rather permanently rid the world of its source than move on or make peace.

Like Sibohan/Rosamund pointed out they haven’t slept/rested since the spider fight. That was 3-4 episodes ago! Action in this season happens fast and it doesn’t stop. This episode in itself also happened so fast—they went from one story to another in a series of desperate and frantic escapes, only to end up in an another unfamiliar land, but finally having the time to take a breath.

I’ve only watched a few other dimension 20 seasons, but in most of those (Escape from the Bloodkeep excluded, that season was WILD from start to finish) there are a lot more lulls in the action. The characters make the choice to stop and rest, or Brennan stops and begins to narrate the passage of time.

Thinking about Neverafter and the topic of consumption.

Obviously there's consumption of sustenance- food, flesh, etc. Ylfa eating the Wolf, Stepmother eating her daughters. Even the bit about Timothy's rotten apples for his husband, Gerard's frogginess made manifest in his decision to munch on some cave spiders, and Muffet's town's obsession with curds and whey play into that food theme.

What's most interesting to me is the intersection here of consumption and necessity. Ylfa slaying the Wolf not out of kindness or evil but pure, instinctive, overpowering necessity. That need to survive. And then the Stepmother, who wreaks havoc by literally swallowing up the people and things standing in her way. Even Timothy's book is, in a way, swallowing up people and objects for safekeeping.

And side note, overindulgence and overconsumption of wealth certainly have a part to play in all this. The folly of Gerard and Pib being tied to complacency and material abundance which accompanies success. The Turquoise Haired Fairy dissuading Rosamund and Pinocchio from wanting more out of their stories- trying to have their cake and eat it too.

One of the most fascinating things about this campaign is how it plays with knowledge on massive scale. Not as some passive idea but an actionable, exchangeable force which drives the plot and characters.

At first glance, it seems like we're operating on a tiered hierarchy. At the bottom live the commonfolk ignorant of their role as storytelling fodder, followed by higher ups like the Baron of Bricks or the princesses- possessing ulterior knowledge but still operating by terrestrial means. At the top you have those who have superseded their stories (Stepmother) or exist beyond the boundaries of any singular story (the Wolf, the Gander, the Goose, Baba Yaga).

But between these two episodes, it becomes clear that even beings who you would expect to have omniscience also don't have all of the answers. The Wolf doesn't know where Baba Yaga is, so he has to go hunting for the trail again. A possible conclusion from the interaction between the Gander and Timothy is that not even the Gander itself knows what's keeping it rooted to the Neverafter.

So many other instances. The bookkeepers of the Lines Between knowing about the Authors yet totally in the dark about what's stalking the corridors right alongside them. The princesses playing the equivalent of elaborate 4D chess across realms yet Snow White hadn't even heard of most of the stuff Ylfa and Timothy told her.

Obsessed with the implementation of horror in Neverafter. Like, yes, obviously the creepy spiders, gore, cannibalism, etc. But that moment for Timothy of gazing into an abyss of ink, the dark and bottomless origin of creation itself, and having something stare back at you?? To be observed in such a way that you are instantaneously rendered into a fictitious state and grasp the frivolity of your own existence. It's utter meaninglessness fills you as vast as the oceans are wide. And something else, about the existential horror that must accompany the realization you are a mere cog in a wheel you cannot begin to comprehend, let alone have a hand in designing.

I don't know a lot about the philosophy of predeterminism, if that's what it's called, but there is a very unique, juicy genre of horror within this space that has to do with utter powerlessness, futility, and essentially all of your choices- all of them- being illusory.

So cruel too because our ragtag group of survivors have been trying so hard!! Jotting stories down and battling against the odds and banding together. People of decisive action because this world needs them to be. In a way, this idea of the authors stands in opposition. Or better yet, its reality nudges their deepest fears, whispering to them that maybe, just maybe, nothing they do ever mattered or will ever matter at all.