“It’s a blessing, Peter,” Susan says. “Don’t you see? It’s a second chance.” Edmund asks, “What was wrong with our first?” “The key,” Edmund muses, “is not to say ‘but I am a king of Narnia’. One must say, ‘I am a king of Narnia, but’.” Susan asks, “What if you just start a whole new sentence instead?” That is the difference between them, and it breaks my heart. (Interestingly, the difference between Peter in Every Desperate Retreat and Edmund in the...bit I haven't finished yet is that Peter thinks "I am a king of Narnia, but" while Edmund says "But you are a king of Narnia.") So much love.
You would think that it's Susan who is as steadfast as the earth, but she is more like water. She will change shape according to whatever container she is poured into. I love how you handle Susan.
Mrs Pevensie! Trying to protect her children and help them grow up and not realizing she doesn't have to.
Lucy sees him reading "Through the Black Hole" one day and asks him what a Black Hole is. "They're massive spots in the sky that pull everything in."
"Do you think that's what Narnia is?" OH LUCY. I love how you guys play with the way the Pevensies seem doomed to be children wherever they are, and the way Narnia never changes either, and if they do grow up they are yanked back to childhood. Maybe Narnia does pull everything in.
Were we just tools to him? Susan writes to him in the darkest days of winter. It could have been anyone, couldn't it, Peter? Any two boys and any two girls. We were just playing a role, filling some slot of the myth of Narnia, and when he had no need of us he tossed us back into a world without any myth to guide us, any comprehensible plan for us that explains our lives in both worlds.
she knows what it's like to be a figure in a battle who is suddenly taken out of it, the guiding hand removed and the unspoken assumption that everything will be normal now, that home will still be there when you get back.
There's no momentum for them, she writes. They have to pick themselves up off the ground and start anew. Something inside them has changed and the world can never understand how.
she will always remember that touching fabrics was the same between worlds, but the cast of the sunlight never was. That dancing barefoot could only happen there and not here. That she can live different lives in the same body and that the sea is never the same in any world, different every time she steps in it. Oh, this whole section. I love your Susan. And it would be so hard to go back with all these memories to people who can't understand and in their case don't even realize they're there. OH SUSAN. OH PEVENSIES.
And I love the way you play with time, and how it is so fucked up for them. And in conclusion I love you guys, you are awesome, omg.
no subject
“It’s a blessing, Peter,” Susan says. “Don’t you see? It’s a second chance.”
Edmund asks, “What was wrong with our first?”
“The key,” Edmund muses, “is not to say ‘but I am a king of Narnia’. One must say, ‘I am a king of Narnia, but’.”
Susan asks, “What if you just start a whole new sentence instead?”
That is the difference between them, and it breaks my heart. (Interestingly, the difference between Peter in Every Desperate Retreat and Edmund in the...bit I haven't finished yet is that Peter thinks "I am a king of Narnia, but" while Edmund says "But you are a king of Narnia.") So much love.
You would think that it's Susan who is as steadfast as the earth, but she is more like water. She will change shape according to whatever container she is poured into. I love how you handle Susan.
Mrs Pevensie! Trying to protect her children and help them grow up and not realizing she doesn't have to.
Lucy sees him reading "Through the Black Hole" one day and asks him what a Black Hole is. "They're massive spots in the sky that pull everything in."
"Do you think that's what Narnia is?" OH LUCY. I love how you guys play with the way the Pevensies seem doomed to be children wherever they are, and the way Narnia never changes either, and if they do grow up they are yanked back to childhood. Maybe Narnia does pull everything in.
Were we just tools to him? Susan writes to him in the darkest days of winter. It could have been anyone, couldn't it, Peter? Any two boys and any two girls. We were just playing a role, filling some slot of the myth of Narnia, and when he had no need of us he tossed us back into a world without any myth to guide us, any comprehensible plan for us that explains our lives in both worlds.
she knows what it's like to be a figure in a battle who is suddenly taken out of it, the guiding hand removed and the unspoken assumption that everything will be normal now, that home will still be there when you get back.
There's no momentum for them, she writes. They have to pick themselves up off the ground and start anew. Something inside them has changed and the world can never understand how.
she will always remember that touching fabrics was the same between worlds, but the cast of the sunlight never was. That dancing barefoot could only happen there and not here. That she can live different lives in the same body and that the sea is never the same in any world, different every time she steps in it.
Oh, this whole section. I love your Susan. And it would be so hard to go back with all these memories to people who can't understand and in their case don't even realize they're there. OH SUSAN. OH PEVENSIES.
And I love the way you play with time, and how it is so fucked up for them. And in conclusion I love you guys, you are awesome, omg.