Oh God, you guys, I forgot Bridgens had his own journals...!!!
In the book, Bridgens had his own journals, kept throughout the Expedition and possibly beforehand. There's one purposefully left behind in his tent when he goes for his final walk, and five even longer ones purposefully left far behind on Terror!!!
Just consider that for a single goddamn second!
John Bridgens, a man who loves literature and stories, and has defined his entire life by them, specifically destroys his own story, deliberately leaves it all behind to rot, in order to carry Peglar's forward with him instead...!!!
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hey, I saw you mention at one point you had a cat named Nimitz! may I ask what inspired this name? (speaking as someone who used to have a bunny named Nimitz)
Ah, the Terror of the Underbrush, may she walk in quiet darkness. She and her adopted sisters were all named after admirals-- we had Halsey and Yamamoto-- but Nim was also a nod to Honor Harrington, which I was reading when she showed up when I was twelve. Appropriately, she turned out to be a shoulder cat.
I love Malice and Vice, and I loved Hazy and Yama, and Kitten Little before them, but I'll never have a cat better than the Terror.
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I was rereading "Lovers of the Human Flesh" by Caleb Crain as one does and I was very struck by two particular lines in relation to one Cornelius Hickey:
Incorporating what you love is a sure way to see that it never escapes from you.
and
Eating something is a way of keeping it with you forever, but it is also a way of destroying it.
I don't need to delve into the implications for Hickey's actual cannibalism - that's been done by those better (and more attached to Hickey) than I. What I want to talk about more is this concept in relationship to Hickey's ambitions to godhood.
Hickey has a plan always, at all times. It's a plan that shifts based on what seems best for him, what seems most convenient, and whatever he thinks his relationship to Crozier is at any given moment. They all essentially make sense in a scrappy, aggrieved, mutiny kind of way. Until: Solomon Tozer tells him, horrified, that he witnessed the Tuunbaq eat Mr. Collins' soul. Hickey says, specifically, that this merits a change in plan. He spends a long time by himself on a hill doing --we'll never know what.
EC/Cornelius Hickey, a man who clearly has never known a love that didn't turn on him or leave, has determined to be become melded to the Tuunbaq, an eater of souls. Gibson turned on him by falsely representing their relationship to Irving; Crozier turned on him by denying the "clear" bond they had and denying Hickey's gift of Lady Silence; he's been betrayed by this entire voyage that was supposed to take him to Oahu. Who knows what other loves have betrayed him.
If the Tuunbaq can eat souls, if Hickey can become connected with that power, then perhaps he too will be able to incorporate souls! Perhaps he will be able to finally ensure that something, someone will never turn on him. And if those souls must be destroyed in the process, what is it to him? Has the world not spent his entire time on earth trying to destroy him? (Conjecture: but given what we learn of him, the Nagaitis lore, and the cultural & economic context in which he exists, I think this is reasonable.) He yells into the Arctic air:
Bugger Victoria! Bugger Nelson! Bugger Jesus! Bugger Joseph, bugger Mary! Bugger the Archbishop of Canterbury! NONE EVER WANTED NOTHING FROM ME
He feels abandoned by every institution of society, and so he is going to create one in his own image. He offers a captain, an officer, a marine, and a ship's boy: the ship's hierarchy in miniature. If he feeds the Tuunbaq their souls and then melds with Tuunbaq himself, he can eat society and reconstitute it not just in his own image but in his own person, with only his chosen loyal followers, those who do want something from him. As Crain says, "In Freud's Totem and Taboo, the cannibal feast is the founding act of crime and sharing that binds society." That's the founding myth Hickey is not just counting on but trying to actively create.
And maybe, maybe! When he has access to Tuunbaq's power - will he have a line on those souls as well? Tuunbaq devours both body and soul in tandem, suggesting they are connected. As Hickey has already eaten of Gibson's flesh, maybe he can reconstitute and reingest that as Gibson's soul. Thus the destruction becomes the resurrection becomes the incorporation. Crain writes: "The body is a convenient boundary for the definition of the self. [...] in practice the peculiar act [cannibalism and homosexuality] violates that boundary. The act offers an ecstatic union." A cannibal rat wedding, if you will.
Crozier says to Hickey, "You must be a surpassingly lonely man." Hickey doesn't deny this. He merely says "Not for long." This is about power, but it is also about an end to loneliness, to his sense of betrayal at all levels and at every turn. Of course, it doesn't work out. In not caring about who suffered the consequences of his actions, he failed to take into account that incorporation & ingestion involve destruction. He thought himself the instrument of this, but by failing to see the Tuunbaq unto itself, as something other than a tool, as the independent Arctic that could never stomach Western society and live: he turned that back on himself and so was himself destroyed.
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The Treasure of Abbot Thomas (Lawrence Gordon Clark, 1974)
“‘The Treasure of Abbot Thomas’ (1974) is the most ripping mystery of the bunch, starring Michael Bryant as a theologian who teams up with a young posh protégé to try to uncover a treasure allegedly hidden on the Abbey grounds. Bathed in blue and black hues, with the chameleonic Bryant practically unrecognizable from both Girly and The Stone Tape in the years previous, the adaptation moves the action from Germany to Somerset’s Wells Cathedral where it incorporates the famous 14th century stained glass 'Jesse Window' as part of the mystery. [...] The stained glass operates as something of a map, with clues leading to the Abbot’s treasure, which (as in A Warning to the Curious) is guarded by a supernatural being” — Kier-La Janisse, from Yuletide Terror: Christmas Horror on Film and Television (2017).
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Rereading the next chapter which includes Irving's funeral and Crozier reminiscing about his interrogation of Hickey. This latter section has no right to be as funny to me as it is so I think it deserves its own post.
Some things that happen during Hickey's Post-Murder Interrogation:
Crozier orders Hickey to strip further and further until he's down to his underwear, shivering in the cold. It's literally the first thing the Captain says to him as he enters the tent.
(I imagine the practical purpose was to check whether there was any blood or other evidence on Hickey's person but still, delightfully bizarre with some fascinating sexual undertones.)
Hickey, of course, lies his arse off throughout but does so very badly to oddly hilarious effect:
He tries to say he never insisted on going off alone to find Irving, even though everyone else says he asked to do so several times.
He attributes signs of blood under his fingernails to the scurvy and dysentery they're all suffering from and the bleeding it causes 'on the seat', so to speak.
"Are you saying that a Royal Navy petty officer on my ship wipes his arse with his fingers, Mr Hickey?" is Crozier's excellent reply.
He fully just makes a fucking imaginary wife up out of nowhere - it kind of starts as a throwaway line but then he commits to it because Crozier, the weirdo that he is, knows off-hand that Hickey's muster papers had him marked as an unmarried man.
"Oh, my Louisa's been dead going on seven years now, Captain. Of the pox. God rest her soul."
He denies calling Irving "a whoremaster and a liar" even though multiple men across both ships have attested that he's been saying shit like that constantly.
And finally - the pièce de résistance, the cherry on top of the whole shit sundae - Hickey insists that he, along with many of the other men, thought of Irving AS A SON?!!
"I swear to you, I didn't say no such thing. A lot of us looked on poor Lieutenant Irving sorta like a son. A son."
Like, Hickey, baby, first of all - canonically he's older than you. Secondly, he isn't your son just because you kind of wanted to make him call you 'Daddy'...!
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Are you over there feeling fine?
Oh, I'd prefer it if we spoke I'd like to look you in the eyes
Not three AM staring into the void,
waiting for replies
Just waiting for replies.
-Daughter - "Dandelions"
Plus a summary of a fic I`ll probably never finish:
"Neither the day-John, who is his reliable colleague and dear friend, nor the night-John, his lover, acknowledges the other side of their relationship.
Edward can live with that, it`s fine... until it isn`t.
(It almost immediately isn`t)."
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