Surely I Could Still Make It Ring
It's funny, the things that resonate with you. I've been taken by surprise with a few recently. There are always the things that you enjoy, that of course you enjoy - the ones that don't even need to be said. There are also the things that you enjoy - things that are your favorites, even - but that don't quite have that deep resonance. But then there are the things that ambush you; that you would never have expected, and that others wouldn't have expected, but that happen to strike the light in just the right way. Those are always the interesting ones.
It's always interesting to try to trace the strings of why. Why certain things resonate for you in ways they don't for others, or why they land just right, or what it is they lead to. There's a good writing and art exercise in that, I figure - but that's not the point. At least right now.
There are the things that you enjoy, that of course you enjoy, and no one needed to be told. For me that's Lord of the Rings, that's Pellinor, that's Mists of Avalon, that's Kushiel. Arguably, that's The Dark Tower. All of them tales of adventure across a vast timespan and space, traveling throughout many worlds - however metaphorical or literal that may be - with all the usual trappings of fantasy and song and poem and riddles with a deeper meaning in the world. Those are givens.
There are the things that you enjoy - things are your favorites, though they needn't be by necessity. For me that's Deep Space 9, that's Babylon 5, that's Spirit Island, that's Six Ages. All things that are many-sided, with many factors balanced against one another; where good and bad are not simple, and where we get to play with nuance. Each in their own ways about the ways that mortal lives intersect with mythology and religion, and where one becomes the other.
Then, there are the things that resonate.
Priscilla: Queen of the Desert is an old one - the oldest one I can think of, this moment. I still couldn't tell you precisely why it resonates for me, but it does and has for a very long time. I ought to rewatch it again, sometime, just to see if it still does - but I think it probably does. Is it my favorite? No - but there's a way it lodges itself behind the lower regions of my ribcage that's undeniable.
The Dark Tower is arguably one of these, as well. When I read it, I was surprised by the way the whole thing flowed the way the inside of my head feels - the depth of landscape and texture, and the way that everything bleeds into one another and intertwines at its edges; that is both rough and course and also delicate and beautiful at the same time. I'm not sure about this one, but it sure echoes the inside of my head more clearly than almost anything else. This one is one of my favorites, but it's also one that's less certain as the resonance goes.
As I said above - I've been ambushed by two more, recently. I wonder if it might be in part due just to exploring more in the continual quest to give this mind something to chew on... But I think it's also at least part happenstance.
One is Moonrise Kingdom. I already mentioned it once or twice - in the context of enjoying it, and in the context of enjoying Wes Anderson's works in general, and even in the context of the resonance. I wasn't anticipating it resonating quite so much; but it shouldn't be surprising, either. I already said why. I found a more concise way to put it, though - what it's about, and what I suspect about it pulls so strong for me. It's about what it is to live in a world that you're not the right shape for; and the lengths that the world will try to go to in order to force you to fit; and the lengths that must be gone to in turn to survive intact and as yourself. This one is also not my favorite - but I can tell that it's one of those ones that's going to stay, whether I will it or not.
The other is Glass Heart. I talked about that one a little, some time ago. It's been a slow process of working through it - not quite Hearthsnail's cup of tea, and I wouldn't have thought it would be mine either. It's hard to watch it with him, in some ways - in that it strikes so deeply for me, in ways that feel vulnerable. We're well-matched in many ways, but no one is absolutely perfect for each other; and this is one of those places we don't quite fit. He is not particularly romantic - in the greater sense of the world, not strictly in a relationships sense - and that's a thing that runs quiet but deep for me. I am still figuring out how to touch on that part of me in ways outside of this - but that's something else entirely.
Glass Heart, in a way not quite shared by all the rest, hurts. Like Priscilla, I don't know that I could quite put my finger on why. I appreciate the sincerity of it, for one - that same thing that draws me to Lord of the Rings. It takes itself seriously, in a way that is very much not in vogue right now. It has that touch of deeper meaning in the world, and the beauty in small things and small moments; but it's more than that, too. Watching it feels like grieving. Which, I suppose, is part of the idea - that's what it's about, in part.
...All of them are about people. Not people, write broad - about humanity, and mortality, and what it means to be human - but about people. Specific people. In a way that goes beyond the inherent nature of being a character in a story. Characters being the way they are is part of any story, which may also be about other things; but not every story is about a character - or group of characters - being what they are. All of these things are this. All of them are about groups of people - specific groups of people - and what it means to be the way they are.
All of them are honest in what it means to be these people. In that, sometimes, it's ugly - and unapologetically so. Sometimes people are hard to deal with, and do ugly things, and run crossthreads against another in ways that are no one's fault but due merely to who they are. Glass Heart less so than the rest of them, in some ways - but what the story's about aches in other ways. There's no sense of needing to remove these things from these people, or necessarily even to grow from them; but simply to learn to navigate them as part of navigating another world.
All of them are about people who are the wrong shape. Who are in some way fundamentally broken by trying to fit into the world around them, or who in breaking no longer have a place - and are outcast because of it. Priscilla, Dark Tower, Moonrise are all this way. Glass Heart, less so once again - but I'll return to it in a moment. It's not found family; there's a sense in found family that, having been found, all will be well and you will be made whole again. None of these make that claim. In all of them, there will never be a way to fit into the rest of the world, and there is no way to be a shape that does so. Living will never be comfortable, and you will never be fixed - and, I think, that's part of the point. That you go on living anyway.
Sigh. Shut up. This is how I'm figuring it out, okay? I have to put it to words to grasp it, no matter how obvious it might be to anyone else. Just bear with me on it.
Glass Heart is less about outcasts and more about ties that bind - it's the same problem, turned inwards. How you navigate the process of breaking one another when you cannot help but do so; when you cannot just walk away, because this is the one thing in the world that fits. The one thing that makes sense beyond words. It says, rather be broken than hollow; and, if we must break, then let us break in shapes that fit together. There is still no comfort in it, in the end, nor being fixed; only that you go on living anyway.
So there's my answer, I suppose. Shouldn't have been so hard. It wasn't hard, I suppose; I just needed to take the time and space to sort through it. I don't like the answer I found, mind you. There's no comfort it in. Which I suppose, as above, is the point.
But there was never going to be any anyway, so. That's why, too.
Why this one hurts so much more than the rest of them, I still don't know. Some of it surely has to lie in where it's different from the others - but I don't know if it's that I can't see, or that I don't want to look. It may well become one of my favorites, though. One of those ones that surprises you. We've got one more episode left - I'll be sad when it's done. I may rewatch it again while Hearthsnail's not around. Maybe I'll understand it more after, then.