#theme:shadow

It’s April 2004; the sunset days of Web 1.0. A new website has just been created: a cross-media wiki known as TVTropes. It’s a site for fans of all manner to identify and record common storytelling conventions as they recur throughout different pieces of media, and it will grow to become a dominant knowledge-base for fandom over the next decade.

A little-known about TVTropes is that it was originally created to focus on one show in particular, and that that show was, of course, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The site was born from the petri dish of Buffy fan debates. For better or worse, both this site and the works of Joss Whedon were an incredible influence on this era of nerd culture, and even two decades later, we can see their impact. The post-Avengers hegemony of superhero blockbusters and cinematic universes, as well as the increase in spoiler-phobia and efforts to subvert expectations among creatives, can all be traced back in part to this site, and this show. There may be no more succinct demonstration of what 2000s nerd culture was like than this particular intersection of media history, and if we zoom in a little further, there is one trope that is of particular interest to this episode. The page for Badass Decay has existed for over a decade, and has three separate pages of examples, but older readers may recognise it by its original title - Spikeification.

The concept of Spikeification presupposes two things. Firstly, that from the point he is introduced in the show until the point he leaves, Spike becomes less “badass”; secondly, that this is a bad thing. I am introducing TVTropes into this conversation because I think it’s demonstrative of how dominant this line of thinking was in fan culture of the time. This was a presumed fact about Spike’s character, and the only debate was whether his “badass decay” began with his chip, his soul, his love for Buffy, or some other point in the show. It became such a piece of received wisdom that it gave the trope its name, and still today, he is referenced in the page’s headline quote. This received wisdom escaped the confines of Buffy fandom to influence nerd spaces far beyond the show itself.

It’s also, of course, a load of bollocks.

1) As Buffy's shadow, Faith is meant to be symbolic of Buffy's repressed desires, and specifically her frustrated sexuality. Buffy is dealing with imposed chastity throughout S3, first with her trauma over Angel getting in the way of a relationship with Scott, and then the curse preventing her from being physical with Angel. It's the centre point of Enemies, its touched on in Amends, and is one of the reasons they break up. There's a reason the season climaxes with Angel and Buffy in a passionate embrace, making orgasm faces as he 'penetrates' her. It's a whole season of sexual frustration for Buffy.

Faith needs to be constantly reminding Buffy of the thing she can't have - sex. She needs to talk about sex to Buffy - and she does, extensively. Faith is written as a very sexual person in general, but it's specifically and disproportionately aimed towards Buffy, because that's her narrative role. So you end up with this character who is constantly going around like "hey Buffy do you like sex? you should think about sex now. sex. when I'm on screen the main thing on your mind should be sex and having it". Which begs the question - why does Faith want Buffy to have sex? Symbolically, it's because she represents part of Buffy, and Buffy wants to have sex. But on a pure character level... what is the explanation? What is motivating Faith to constantly talk about sex to Buffy? A few instances you can write off as her making Buffy uncomfortable for jokes, but not all of them. How it comes across is that Faith has some sexual interest in Buffy, and is probing for her feelings.

2) Faith is a Seductress. That's not a comment about her character, that's her function in the story. She is the version of Buffy who goes down a darker path, and is trying to seduce her into doing the same thing. Part of Buffy's arc in S3 is resisting this temptation, and the symbol of what she is resisting is Faith. So Faith must be an enticing, seductive figure. To quote Passion of the Nerd's review, if Faith is there to to tempt Buffy into a moral dark side, it only makes sense that she is, well, tempting. The seduction is happening on many levels.

Faith is more or less filling the Femme Fatale archetype: the seductive, sexual figure who leads the Hero off their path. It's a trope you see all the time in male-led stories, going back to goddamn The Odyssey. Buffy as a character was invented as a simple gender-swap of an old horror trope, and part of the appeal of the show is that she gets to fill the role of The Hero as a woman. So what happens when you gender-swap The Hero and don't gender-swap the Femme Fatale? You get a gay story, that's what.

3) The Faith arc of S3 is a recreation of the Angel arc of S2. It is structured in the exact same way, with the two having a push-and-pull in the early parts of the season, a setback in their relationship in episode 7, getting closest again mid-season before a night of passion that ends in sudden tragedy. Angel/Faith then turn to the dark side, become the Big Bad, and show that they are beyond saving in episode 17. The season ends with Buffy having to fight and the kill them in order to save others. This is all an intentional recycling, as part of the show building up the Trolley Problem and the idea of Buffy being a killer, repeatedly escalating it to get us to The Gift. What this means is that Faith steps into the role that Buffy's love interest played in the previous season. This is the story that we have just had told to us as a tragic love story. We see it again, and guess what? It's still a tragic love story. Only now Faith is in the role of the love interest.

4) Part of the conflict surrounding Buffy and Faith is Buffy's fear of being "Single White Female'd". She fears Faith might steal her loved ones, and Faith does threaten that. She gets along with her mother, her friends... but most of all, her love interests. Buffy's fear of being replaced manifests as Faith trying to literally seduce away anyone romantically linked to Buffy. Angel, Scott Hope, Xander, later Riley, Spike, Robin Wood... Faith is comprehensively and exclusively attracted to men that Buffy dated. I'm honestly surprised she didn't find Owen and Parker from somewhere for a night in the sack. Again, this makes perfect heterosexual sense from a symbolic point it view - she threatens to take Buffy's place in the narrative, so she takes her place in relationships - but on a character level it becomes ambiguous. Is she actively trying to replace Buffy? Or is she trying to stop Buffy dating anyone for another reason? The simple fact is, there is exactly one common denominator with all of Faith's romantic entanglements: Buffy.

It's a canonical aspect of Faith's character that she is jealous of Buffy. We see that made explicit in Enemies - she's jealous of everything Buffy has: her family, her comfortable home life, her friends, her narrative standing, and of course her loving partners. So of course Faith displays jealousy whenever Buffy is involved with a guy. It's a necessary part of building Faith as this figure of Want and Envy. But how it plays out on screen isn't that Faith is jealous of Buffy because she wants these other guys - of course not, because we see her look jealously through the window at Buffy and Riley in This Year's Girl and Riley obviously means nothing to her. Rather, it very much appears that she is jealous of these other guys, because she wants Buffy.

There's also the added bonuses that come from the show playing with so many metaphors, that sometimes they cross in interesting ways. One of Faith's main purposes is to celebrate being a Slayer, and to encourage the same in Buffy. She wants Buffy to accept and embrace being a Slayer. Here, Slayerhood is standing in for independence and hedonism and making your own rules, all the things that Faith is encouraging. But one of the many other metaphors used is the 'coming out' metaphor. "Have your tried not being a slayer?" "It's because you didn't have a strong father figure isn't it." "I've tried to march in the Slayer Pride parade." It's a note that's hit really hard specifically around the time in the show that Faith is introduced. So if you carry this metaphor on, then Faith becomes an out-and-proud lesbianSlayer, trying to convince Buffy to accept and embrace her sexuality.

And it has a recursive effect too. All this stuff contributes towards Faith feeling like a very queer character. And Faith, of course, is Buffy's shadow self, meant to represent her unconscious desires. So when the symbol of your unconscious desires is so lesbian-coded, then the implication becomes that one of your unconscious desires is lesbian desire. Faith's existence as a part of Buffy implies the existence of Buffy's bisexuality. Which contributes to the relationship feeling ever more queer, which makes Faith even gayer.

It must really suck to be Cordelia Chase. She was created to represent the alternate life that Buffy Summers could have had, and the shadow desires that still live inside her. Everybody on this show exists in relation to Buffy in some way. She is the nexus of this universe, around which every other character orbits. But it was always especially so for Cordelia, as somebody who existed on the fringes of the core cast. She is the only title character in Season One who is not a member of the “Core Four”. It took her until the eleventh episode to discover she was in a supernatural show, and until the second season to become an active ally of Buffy. Unlike, for example, Willow, who takes a more active role in the day-to-day function of the show as Buffy’s best friend and magical practitioner as well as her role on the metaphorical plane as Buffy’s Spirit, Cordelia has not always had a literal in-text reason to be around for these stories, leaving her adrift in the abstract, with only her role as Shadow to tie her to Buffy

That alone is an unenviable task – for your only job in life to be a reflection of somebody else – but it’s even more appalling when you lose that job to somebody else. This is what has happened to Cordelia this season, as Faith has taken on the Shadow role and Cordelia’s function with it. Cordelia has developed other functions over her time on the show – principally as Xander’s love interest, and in another world she could have continued in this role. The Xander/Willow cheating subplot puts a kibosh on this. The show spends time repairing the Willow/Oz relationship, but for whatever reason, it chooses not to do the same for Xander and Cordelia. Their romance is dead in the water.

The result of this is that Cordelia gets functionally shut out of the show. Buffy has a very clear hierarchy of characters, where Buffy is at the apex and importance flows from her. As one of Buffy’s best friends and metaphorical Heart (not to mention Brendon’s second billing), Xander is clearly above Cordelia in this hierarchy. In one scene in the Bronze, Buffy mentions her discomfort with having to ally with Xander and Willow against Cordelia, but this alliance is inevitable. In-universe it’s a natural result of Buffy being closer friends with Xander, but the out-of-universe justification is that Xander is more important to this show than Cordelia is, so no matter the actual moral fault, Xander is always going to win out, and it’s Cordelia who will lose focus and screen time.

If we view the show as a metaphorical representation of Buffy’s journey into adulthood - with adulthood always bound to slayerhood - then this point in the series marks an interesting moment, as Buffy has completed the first step of her journey. In Season One she accepted her destiny. In Season Two she accepted the responsibility of making choices forced upon her by that destiny. She opens Season Three by passionately embracing her destiny - claiming both her Girl and Slayer halves as essential components in her self-identity. She is no longer a child in terms of mental maturity, and in nine episodes time she will no longer legally be one either. She is entering adulthood - or rather, much like Willow in this episode’s opening, she has been dragged into it. The question is no longer “will Buffy accept her metaphorical adulthood?” It is “what does her metaphorical adulthood mean to her?” It is “who is Buffy Summers, anyway?”

The show explores these, as it so often does, through another character. Characters on this show always exist in twofold - as themselves, and as metaphorical representations of Buffy’s component parts. The Heart; the Mind; the Child; the Shadow. Until now, the last of these roles has been filled by Cordelia. The Shadow represents temptations and suppressed desires, and so Cordelia, who represents the pre-Sunnydale Buffy, was designed for this role. She was a Buffy who ignored her destiny - a temptation that Buffy had been on a journey to resist. With Buffy having accepted her destiny - her Slayerness - Cordelia is no longer required in this role, and so will have only one more last hurrah of an episode in which she performs it. Buffy must gain a new Shadow.

And so here, in Season Three’s true premiere, She enters. She takes central position in this season, acting both as the arguable Big Bad and Buffy’s primary foil. She, unlike the slayer that preceded her, acts as a genuine challenger to Buffy’s position as Hero of this narrative, and will battle her for control. She is more than a Shadow. I have referred to her as Buffy’s ‘Prime Shadow’ before, but a better phrase may be Buffy’s Inverse. She is Buffy, filtered through another lens, and the show will make no subtleties of that fact. She exists to show us who Buffy is - to question who she could be. She is her mirror. Her twin. The photographic negative of her soul.

Her name is Faith.

I get why the Scoobies are mad in this episode. For all the discussion we have had about the Scoobies’ arguable mistreatment of Buffy and the dismissive regard the show has towards her perspective post-killing-Angel/post-getting-kicked-out-of-her-house, I think it’s fair to say that Buffy’s concealment of Angel’s return is not a great move on her part. She lies to her friends - and it is a lie, not a mere failure to tell the truth. Note that a major plot point in Band Candy is her lying to both Joyce and Giles about her whereabouts when she is with Angel. Buffy tells a lie, and it does endanger her friends.

Buffy’s justifications for keeping this secret are flimsy. She claims that she planned to tell the gang when she knew why he was back, but she has made no effort to find out this information since Beauty and the Beasts. She claims that their relationship is no longer romantic, but in this episode she is unable to stop herself from kissing him. Her and Angel cannot contain their feelings. Both Oz and Spike next episode make this bluntly clear; they’re not just friends, and any claim that that’s all they are is demonstrably preposterous. The existence of Xander’s Lie does lend greater justification to Buffy’s fears that her friends would want to see Angel dead, but to focus entirely on “kick his ass” would be to ignore that giving up on curing Angel and focusing on kicking his ass was exactly what Buffy herself was doing at that point in Becoming.

This much is true: Angel’s presence in Sunnydale is a potential danger to everyone else in Sunnydale. Angel himself would be the first person to agree. His demonic urges are kept only in check by his soul, and that in itself is not a guarantee. Even if Buffy and Angel were able to contain their passions, the series shows us a deluge of shamans, mystics, dream sequences, empathogenic drugs, and even future love interests that are capable of triggering another bout of soullessness. Neither myself nor the show is saying that Angel should not live, but both of us would agree that his existence is in itself a risk.

Cordelia is tactlessly correct when she points out that this risk mainly endangers Buffy’s loved ones. Though Angel’s ultimate goal last season was the mental torture and ultimate destruction of Buffy, his method of achieving that mainly consisted of killing her friends. Willow, Cordelia and Xander all had their lives directly threatened by him. Giles suffered agonising torture at his hands. This would be enough to justify their fear even without saying Jenny Calendar's name. It does not undermine the intense trauma that Buffy underwent in Season Two to say that Willow, Xander, Cordelia and Giles also underwent serious trauma. Because of their experiences in the same season, they have valid reasons to distrust Angel, and to be understandably upset at the lies that Buffy has told them.

You know who doesn’t really have a good reason to be upset? Faith

Since this series started, Cordelia Chase has existed for one specific purpose - to act as Buffy’s Shadow Self. She has represented Buffy’s pre-Slayer self, and her desire to return to that state. That part of Buffy’s life is her childhood - both literally in the sense that she was fifteen years old when she was called, and metaphorically in the sense that Slayerhood represents Buffy’s adulthood. In life, however, we cannot go backwards. We cannot return to our childhoods; growing up is an unavoidable fact of existence. So Buffy, if she is to develop as a person and as a character, has to overcome this desire to return to her childhood and move on from it.

Because she is not a static character, and because this is a functional television show, Buffy has been on that journey for two seasons now. We have chronicled the strides she has made in this department, and how by the end of Season Two, she has more or less completed this part of her arc. That’s why she gained a new Shadow Self two episodes ago in Faith, who represents different parts of Buffy - different desires and obstacles for her to overcome. Buffy is moving on from her desire to return to childhood - and moving on from Cordelia as her Shadow. 

“Love isn't brains, children, it's blood. Blood screaming inside you to work its will. I may be love's bitch, but at least I'm man enough to admit it.” - Spike, 3x08 Lovers Walk

The nature of love is an impossible thing to distill. If it were possible, then the poets would have done so already - they’ve been trying for thousands of years after all. For this reason, I do not believe that any strict definition or way of categorising love exists, and that any attempt to do so is, by virtue of existing, moot. It cannot be summed up in one word or ten thousand. Love is a fractal gem, unexplainable without all its facets.

Still, one poet gives it his best shot. Spike defines love as an inherent primal force. It does not involve the mind, but is physical in nature - tactile and instinctive. Buffy is extremely concerned with the idea of Choice, but Spike positions love in opposition to Choice. Love, according to him, controls the inhabitant and denies them choice, forcing them to enact its will, not their own. Since free will is the cornerstone of humanity (under Buffy’s existentialist framework), then love, by taking away that free will, makes the lover less than human. The term “bitch” here isn’t being used only colloquially - it is meant to invoke its literal meaning, of being an animal. A Dog.