avevale_intelligencer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
avevale_intelligencer) wrote2005-06-02 01:41 pm
avevale_intelligencer) wrote2005-06-02 01:41 pm
Why I won't be posting about Doctor Who any more.
The latest issue of Doctor Who Monthly has an article by Russell T Davies in it, in which he wonders why the fans aren't enthusing more about the new series. Apparently everyone else is crazy about it, so what's the matter with us? Are we just being cool and uptight about it? Why don't we shout it out loud: "I love Doctor Who"?
This hurts.
It hurts because I know I've been being a whinger and a whiner and a naysayer, and he makes me feel guilty and ashamed about it. It hurts because I've loved Doctor Who all my life, and I liked what I saw of his work before, and I was ready to love the new series without a moment's qualm or question. And I do love it. I couldn't be this upset if I didn't.
But it's like the moment when the brisk, bright Welsh nurse ushers you into the ward, saying cheerfully how well the patient's doing, and you see the grey-faced, emaciated figure in the bed and you look into the dark-rimmed, fever-bright eyes and somehow you have to make yourself smile, and you do, and inside you're screaming "what have you DONE to him?"
Critics rave about this new incarnation being "Doctor Who with every ounce of fat stripped away." I can't get that phrase out of my head, because a human being with every ounce of fat stripped away is desperately unwell, and so, to my eyes, is this being that I love. All the bits are there. I know, because when I hug him I can feel them sticking into me. But there's no substance, there's no comfort, and a huge part of what I used to go to him for was comfort, was reassurance, in an increasingly comfortless world. he and I go way back, we have history, but vast stretches of that history are gone, and I hardly recognise the person he's become. And it hurts.
The brisk, bright nurse says he's fine, he's doing splendidly, I should really be happy for him. Strangers may see nothing wrong, because they didn't know him before. Better people than I, stronger people, see signs of hope, or at least reasons not to be afraid. I don't. I see an enfeebled, confused almost-stranger who just, this last visit, gave me a shadow of a smile and got my name nearly right.
So I won't be posting about Doctor Who again, because I don't want to be a naysayer and I can't be a cheerleader, and if you can't say something nice you shouldn't say anything at all.
This hurts.
It hurts because I know I've been being a whinger and a whiner and a naysayer, and he makes me feel guilty and ashamed about it. It hurts because I've loved Doctor Who all my life, and I liked what I saw of his work before, and I was ready to love the new series without a moment's qualm or question. And I do love it. I couldn't be this upset if I didn't.
But it's like the moment when the brisk, bright Welsh nurse ushers you into the ward, saying cheerfully how well the patient's doing, and you see the grey-faced, emaciated figure in the bed and you look into the dark-rimmed, fever-bright eyes and somehow you have to make yourself smile, and you do, and inside you're screaming "what have you DONE to him?"
Critics rave about this new incarnation being "Doctor Who with every ounce of fat stripped away." I can't get that phrase out of my head, because a human being with every ounce of fat stripped away is desperately unwell, and so, to my eyes, is this being that I love. All the bits are there. I know, because when I hug him I can feel them sticking into me. But there's no substance, there's no comfort, and a huge part of what I used to go to him for was comfort, was reassurance, in an increasingly comfortless world. he and I go way back, we have history, but vast stretches of that history are gone, and I hardly recognise the person he's become. And it hurts.
The brisk, bright nurse says he's fine, he's doing splendidly, I should really be happy for him. Strangers may see nothing wrong, because they didn't know him before. Better people than I, stronger people, see signs of hope, or at least reasons not to be afraid. I don't. I see an enfeebled, confused almost-stranger who just, this last visit, gave me a shadow of a smile and got my name nearly right.
So I won't be posting about Doctor Who again, because I don't want to be a naysayer and I can't be a cheerleader, and if you can't say something nice you shouldn't say anything at all.
no subject
Please don't stop talking about the show, no matter what your feelings about it. Personally, I'm enjoying the new show and very glad to have it. I don't think it's perfect. There are bits I'd do differently. But I like it.
Having said that, I think that both the knee-jerk "This is the best thing that ever happened to me ever ever!" reactions are just as useless as the "This sucks and everything about it sucks and did I happen to mention that it sucks" reactions.
There are things about the show that upset you, but you discuss them in a reasonable way and think about your reactions and why you have them. We need more of that on both the positive and negative sides of the debate.
I'd really hate to lose your voice from the discussion. I'd consider it a tremendous loss.
no subject
Thank you for your kind words, but if I do say anything it'll be because I've got something new to say. Which may, for all I know, be "Hurrah!" We'll see.