Yearning for Wonderland
After a ridiculous dry spell, I finally wrote a wee 200 word flash fiction for Rebecca Postupak’s Flash Friday.
Enu never liked going there, but Elaida was fascinated with the chairyard. She’d wander through the field for hours, trailing her hand over their weathered backs. Choosing one, she’d perch on the creaky seat, blue eyes slightly unfocused.
Enu sat in the chair nearest her. After about ten minutes, he said, “What’re you thinking?”
She turned blind-eyed and then smiled. The moment was gone.
“What it was like before Quietus, before the Keepers said we had to Sleep.”
Chiled, Enu stood, his feet smudging into the soft ground. “What good does that do?” His voice was sharper than he wanted.
In the distance, dead wires hung from their poles. Enu usually thought of them as benevolent overseers, gently sagging. Today, in the lowering fog, they were endless chains, hemming them in.
Enu squeezed her hand with fierce anxiety, “You mustn’t say that.”
The fog closed around them, listening.
Colorless hair clung to her face in the damp. “There was a chair for every one of us. We didn’t sleep a year for every month.”
“It won’t always be like this, Elaida.”
“You’re right – one day we won’t wake at all.”
Far away, the bell tolled, summoning them to Sleep.
So after last night, I had to sleep on my feelings about the season finale of Downton Abbey. I called my mother this evening and we spent 58 minutes howling at the moon…that is to say, dissecting what exactly troubled us about the finale and season 3 of Downton.
I should start by saying that I came to the Downton fold most reluctantly (see: Dratted Downton Abbey). I actually missed all of Season 1 when it aired and only started on Episode 1 of Season 2, so I saw it all backwards. I watched all of 2 and then returned to 1, devouring it whole.
I loved it, the sparkly wit, the airy Edwardian costumes, Highclere Castle, loved it, loved it, loved it. I waited for the premiere of Season 3 with all the fervent passion of a girl waiting for her first dance.
SPOILERS AHOY! I don’t know how you missed seeing all the news of what occurs in Season 3 if you are on social media AT ALL, but stop reading now if you don’t wish to have all the plot twists ruined for you. (That’s you, Angie Richmond 😉 )
With the Earl’s foolish investments, the way of life at Downton is at risk. The wedding of Mary was a lovely bright spot (if a bit scanty on the actual ceremony) and it seems like they’re destined for true happiness, especially once he agrees to save Downton. Matthew seems a bit overly tortured by his conscience and perhaps a touch whiny, but it all ends well.
There was much made of Shirley MacLaine’s turn as Cora’s mother. I thought it worked okay, but her actual part was completely disproportionate to the fuss made over her appearance in the show’s promotions. She was only in the one episode.
I was sort of uneasy about how this season was unfolding. Mrs. Hughes may have cancer, the family may have to leave their home, Tom dumps a pregnant Sybil in Ireland. Bates is in jail, the indomitable Anna campaigns to get him released, but all the scenes with him seem lifted from a different show entirely.
Edith gets the short end of the stick AGAIN as she is jilted at the altar. Can’t this girl get a break? The death of Sybil was a shocker, but I thought perfectly believable given the mortality rates of giving birth.
But because that’s one of the first big plot events, it means that everyone spends so much time crying and fighting amongst themselves and blaming each other and suffering. It’s realistic, yes, but not so easy to watch. It’s also slicker and more soap-operaish.
I mean, we should all acknowledge at this point that it IS a soap opera, no matter how gorgeously packaged. But do they have to keep reminding us?
I was relieved at the end of the next to the last episode things seemed to be looking up: Cora and the Earl have reconciled, Thomas isn’t arrested, Matthew’s redeemed himself and everyone plays a rousing match of cricket!
Then comes this screeching halt of a finale. First, I think I’ll dwell on the good, because there was rather large scoopfuls of it.
The jaunt to Duneagle allows for some of the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous shots of the Scottish countryside. It was hard not to hop online and book a plane ticket to just casually drop in on my brother, who is living there right now.
The scenes with Bates and Anna continue to charm, as their relationship develops. The moment where she starts dancing the reel for him was easily one of the most “Awww” moments of the season.
Watching Maggie Smith swat away flies as she delivers with her usual deadpan finesse: “That is the thing about nature: there is so much of it.”