#also mary oliver

[oxytocxins]

I thought the earth remembered me, 

she took me back so tenderly. 

#art #illustration #mary oliver #poetry #nature #body horror #botany #plants #artists on tumblr #moss #wlw #or can be interpreted however you like #also inspired by the last of us show #and partly by the oliver poem #might add some more stuff so this is a wip #but could pass as finished #lgbtq art #lgbtq

[poetrysmackdown]

what makes a poem a poem? does it have to be written in a certain way? is this question a poem if i want it to be?

Fun question! This is just my personal sense as an avid reader and less-avid writer of poetry, but for me it’s useful to distinguish (roughly) between poetry as a genre and poetry as an attitude or philosophy through which language and the world can be understood. And of course these two go hand in hand. I see poetry the genre as essentially a type of literature where we as readers are signaled, somehow, to pay closer attention to language, to rhythm, to sound, to syntax, to images, and to meaning. That attentive posture is the “attitude” of broader poetic thinking, and while it’s most commonly applied to appreciate work that’s been written for that purpose, there’s nothing stopping us from applying that attentiveness elsewhere. Everywhere, even! That’s how you eventually end up writing poetry for yourself, after all. There’s a quote from Mary Ruefle floating around on here that a lot of folks have probably already seen, but it immediately comes to mind with this ask:

“And when you think about it, poets always want us to be moved by something, until in the end, you begin to suspect that a poet is someone who is moved by everything, who just stands in front of the world and weeps and laughs and laughs and weeps.”

Similarly, after adopting the attentive posture of poetics, there’s plenty of things that can feel or sound like a poem, even when they perhaps were not written with that purpose in mind. I’ve seen a couple of these “found poems” on here that are quite fun—this one, for example. The meaning and enjoyment you may derive from the language of a found poem isn’t any less real than that derived from a poem written for explicitly poetic purposes, so I don’t see why it shouldn’t be called poetry.

That said, I do think that if you’re going to go out and start looking for poetry everywhere, it’s still important to have a foundation in the actual language work of it all. Now, this doesn’t mean it has to be “written in a certain way” at all! But it does mean that in order to cultivate the attentiveness that’s vital to poetry, one needs to understand what makes language tick, down at its most basic levels. It will make you better at reading poetry, better at writing it, and better at spotting it out in the wild.

Mary Oliver’s A Poetry Handbook is an extraordinary resource to new writers and readers, and a great read for more experienced folks as well. Mary Oliver’s most popular poems are all to my knowledge in free verse, and yet you might be surprised to find her deep appreciation for metrical verse (patterns of stressed/unstressed syllables), as well as for the most minute devices of sound. In discussing the so-called poetry of the past, she writes,

“Acquaintance with the main body of English poetry is absolutely essential—it is the whole cake, while what has been written in the last hundred years or so, without meter, is no more than an icing. And, indeed, I do not really mean an acquaintanceship—I mean an engrossed and able affinity with metrical verse. To be without this felt sensitivity to a poem as a structure of lines and rhythmic energy and repetitive sound is to be forever less equipped, less deft than the poet who dreams of making a new thing can afford to be.”

In another section, after devoting lots of attention to the sounds at work in Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”, she writes,

“Everything transcends from the confines of its initial meaning; it is not only the transcendence in meaning but the sound of the transcendence that enables it to work. With the wrong sounds, it could not have happened.”

I hope all this helps to get across my opinion that what makes a poem a poem is not just about the author's intention, and not just about meaning (intended or attributed), but also about sound and rhythm and language and history, all coalescing into something that rises above the din of a language we would otherwise grow tired of while out in our day-to-day lives.

I'll always have more to say but I'm cutting myself off here! Thanks for the ask

#ask #discussion #does this even answer the question? lol #anyways even if you're not huge on mary oliver i still highly recommend a poetry handbook #i admit her poetry is only to my taste about 60-70% of the time. but her handbook is a great resource and can stand alone #i actually think oliver wrote a whole other book just about metrical verse too. for people who are into that #also if you're someone who's less interested in the question 'what is poetry?' and more into questions like #why is poetry? can poetry survive? what the fuck happened to poetics in the twentieth century? #i recommend the witness of poetry by czeslaw milosz #an older book—actually a collection of lectures—but an absolute game-changer for me #not a poll

[hacked-wtsdz]

Modern poetry often doesn’t seem like poetry to me. If you take away the structure and write it down into a normal one-paragraph text, it takes nothing away from the poem. The author could have said it in prose better than in poetry, even. And I know that poetry is a very subjective art, with its edges blurred, with many styles and ways to express oneself. You have haikus and different kinds of rhyming poetry and blank verse. But I’ve seen many poems, and blank verse isn’t the same as putting prose in poetry format.

To me, poetry is allegory. Poetry is symbolism. Poetry is metaphor. Poetry is the ‘wine-dark sea’. You read Whitman or Margaret Atwood or Richard Siken or Mary Oliver or Anna Akhmatova, and you know that if the structure is taken away, you are left with something nearly nonsensical. You think that you’re reading, when in reality you’re looking at a painting and listening to a symphony and watching geese fly to the south.

You read Nikita Gill and think ‘yes, I agree. I agree but I don’t feel anything. You could’ve written for journals, and your talent wouldn’t have gone to waste’.

Not to upset any Nikita Gill fans but i am tired of calling something that only looks like poetry to me poetry.

#poetry #poems #modern poetry #Margaret Atwood #anna akhmatova #richard siken #walt whitman #mary oliver #contemporary poetry #also as someone raised on Russian poetry #which almost always rhymes and is always filled with metaphors and allegories and symbols #it’s hard to find things that would live up to this sort of artistry #russian poetry

[firstfullmoon]

Mary Oliver, “Clam”

#they also try very hard not to die #w #poetry #mary oliver

[dandeyrain]

That time I thought I could not go any closer to grief without dying

I went closer, and I did not die. Surely God had his hand in this,

as well as friends. Still, I was bent, and my laughter, as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found. Then said my friend Daniel, (brave even among lions), “It’s not the weight you carry

but how you carry it– books, bricks, grief– it’s all in the way you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not, put it down.” So I went practicing. Have you noticed?

Have you heard the laughter that comes, now and again, out of my startled mouth?

How I linger to admire, admire, admire the things of this world that are kind, and maybe

also troubled – roses in the wind, the sea geese on the steep waves, a love to which there is no reply?

Heavy by Mary Oliver

#mine #words #mary oliver #fav #this is like. top 5 mary poems for me and i cant ever find it on tumblr et al #so im posting it! #how i linger to admire the things of this world that are kind and maybe also trouble! #how i admire a love to which there is no reply!

[vox-ex]

seasons + stars

supercorptober 2023

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star." ― Haruki Murakami

or Kara deals with the impermanence of herself and the permanence of her love

----

Kara comes to Earth in the Spring.

On the backs of stars she will never see again she carries their dust with her, lays it down in soil tasked with bearing witness to ghosts that are not its own.

The stars that are a part of her become a part of it.

She spends days in the forest, the bright blue sky above her, Sol at her back, Rao in her chest, through the vibrant green trees, across flowers that bloom in hues of yellows and oranges.

She lays out at night on the roof, tries to trace the inky black as far into the distance as she can. Far enough she might still see a light that hasn't been replaced by darkness yet.

The stars will soon become a part of her — she will eventually become a part of them too.

Summer comes with long days and short nights and she misses the stars.

Autumn rushes in with skies that almost feel familiar.

Winter nights are long and cold. She stays out late with the stars again. Speaks to the scattered bits of light — the scattered bits of herself.

Year after year, she is dismantled and reassembled by the seasons that come and go. Until all the bits of stardust she had carried with her from Krypton are all gone. Until she is made of new stars and new dust and new atoms. And what is gone? What is gone is put back into the space to begin again somewhere else.

But then what of her?

Is Kara Zor El somewhere in space?

Is she buried in the soil on Earth?

Is she shoved inside the chest of this other her?

Will she always be two versions different of herself at once?

Kara leaves Earth in the Spring.

Sol at her back, and nothing but darkness ahead.

She doesn't choose to leave, but she is gone all the same.

She meets ghosts she thought were all gone. Buried somewhere between Krypton and Earth — lost with the parts of herself that she too had been buried.

Her own ghost is there.

Haunts her with the parts of herself she wants to hold onto but can't.

Taunts her with the parts of herself she begs to replace but can't.

Kara comes back to Earth in the Summer.

"August of another summer, and once again I am drinking the sun"

She isn't sure what she is made of now.

Isn't sure how long it will take to shed it from her skin.

Isn't sure who she will be when it's gone.

She is just tired, she thinks, of this struggle of atoms, of time, of feeling broken apart.

But she looks up at the sky that night. Find stars again instead of darkness.

Thinks of how they are each a part of Earth, or Krypton, of her.

She is tired, she thinks, but she is also thankful.

It's Autumn when the world almost ends.

The world almost ends, and she realizes she wants more time — needs more time.

It's Autumn when it starts again.

Not in the way one thinks of worlds beginning — in the way of galaxies and of universes — big bangs expanding all at once.

But in the way we do. Slowly. Little by Little.

It begins again with green eyes and dark hair.

It settles into gentle touches and quiet words.

Kara stands at the edge of a field, her feet sinking slightly into the damp forest floor. Leaves scatter across the ground with with freshly fallen pine needles. It smells like cold, like the winter that is coming.

Lena's hand slips into hers, fingers threading together with practiced ease.

Slow.

Gentle.

She feels a droplet of water cling to her skin, just cold enough that she can feel it, can tell it a part from the warmth of Lena's hand in hers.

"I can't believe it's so dark already?"

Kara follows her gaze up to the first stars just peeking through the gaps in the trees.

Meeting Lena first came at the end of a Summer.

Meeting Lena came, and the world softened just a little — just enough.

Slowly.

Little by little.

In all the months between, all the years, all the seasons. They have both been taken apart and put back together, over and over and over.

Sometimes by the universe.

Sometimes by each other.

But amidst the endless dance of stars and the perpetual renewal of atoms, the part of them that loved the other, had always been left whole, over and over and over.

And there are still days where she is not sure who she is — who she is supposed to be with this patchwork collection of particles stuffed into herself.

But then Lena will take her hand and thread their fingers together just like this, and it will feel like each one of them has found it's place and a purpose all over again.

-----

read and follow along on Ao3 too

#supercorp #supercorptober #supergirl #supercorptober2023 #sg prompts #you know I couldn't get out of this month without writing a paradox inspired fic #ship of theseus #Also it turns out there are some atoms that are with us for our entire life #they are buried in the DNA of our heart and our brain #but also our teeth? haha #character study time #but there's love at the end I promise #there's also science #so sorry #softness disguised as heaviness #there's always room for hope at the end #love and paradoxes #science and poetry #sneak the Mary Oliver quote too

[angelmush]

i got a goose tattooed on the inside of my forearm today and it was a flash piece but it's my favorite tattoo already it means everything to me i could sob

#i love geese so much and so deeply i named my dog after them #goose is my black dragon dog and my loyal faithful companion and my entire world #i just love these birds #they are so misunderstood as aggressive and scary when really they just are sensitive to spatial pressure #and they need a wider diameter than humans are often willing to give #but they are so beautiful i love their long graceful necks and how i can recognize their sounds anywhere #and that no matter where i live i see their little v's in the sky #and of course wild geese by mary oliver is one of the first poems i fell in love with #my english teacher deborah read it aloud to us in high school and it made me want to go outside and to stay alive #and when my gf and i first started dating i knew i loved her for lots of reasons but one of them was that she also loved geese #she told me she had a shared folder with her family members titled “geese i've seen” that she would put her goose photos in #so her entire family could witness them with her #i remember when i was sick with anorexia a few weeks before i was hospitalized a v of canadian geese flew over me on my way into work #and these big fluffy snowflakes were falling down and i could hear them calling #and it made my eyes well up #and i hoped they would get somewhere warm enough for winter #whether or not people have respect for them is a wonderful metric for gauging somebody's character #at the grocery store i worked at when i was 18 the only coworker i grew close to had a similar affinity for geese #she had a necklace of one #a little silver glinting goose in flight :'') #personal

[dayurno]

what are ur fav useless hcs. about kevin or anyone from aftg :) like they aren’t really significant but just little things you like to think about. bc i have so many but no one ever talks about theirs and im curious if you have any!

YAY i love this question and also feel free to send me yours too i think useless hcs are really fun

i think renee is a fast and furious fan and an action movie enthusiast….. in the first kevjean fic i’ve ever written there was a scene where she sat jean down and made him watch half of the fast and furious franchise with her and he hated it so bad but he couldnt tell her that so he just sat there very awkwardly the whole time. and renee knew he hated it but she loves the damn movies so much she thought it was a worth it sacrifice. i also love a dyslexia/adhd hc for renee, i think she has a hard time in academia and has a really really really fickle attention span. if you put jean and renee in the same room they might be able to finish a short book between them but its going to take at least 8 hours because they're going to get sidetracked talking to each other about dumb stuff

ex smoker jeremy is still real and beloved in my heart... i think he quit cold turkey in his junior year and it still gets him more often than not, but he's trying and that's all that matters

neil shoplifts on instinct. doesnt even think twice of it

kevin actually HATES the gym. he will not confess to this in any way shape or form but he genuinely hates it. its so early in the morning and the movements are so repetitive and its so boring. in evermore at least there was the threat of getting beaten up if he didnt do his sets right, but in psu its just plain boring. he will still go but he will hate every second. get this man to a court now

jean is horrible with performing small actions :) i think he has big shaky hands that struggle w the minutiae of any process ever. you do NOT want to ask this man to put thread through a needle or give you an injection or pack you a bowl or even light your cigarette. the #irreversible damage of multiple head injuries

also do let me know urs cause i also love hearing about this kind of stuff! i love small hcs... save me mundane realities of life. save me characters with little details

#if you combine jeans shaky hands with the gym you get a man who almost broke kevins foot in evermore three different times bc of #dropping weights #ITS HARD OUT HERE.......................... #also i think renee is such an adrenaline junkie but she knows its bad for her so she lives vicariously thru fast and furious #renee when she has a bad day: oh vin diesel we're really in it now #this is less of a tiny hc but i actually think renee is really good w being alone? i feel like shes really good at enjoying her own company #stephanie couldnt be around her all the time so she learned how to entertain herself #so i think shes one of those people that dont ever get lonely at all. she loves the world so bad and it loves her back #shes very mary oliver saying time spent alone is still time spent w the world #asks #renee #kevin #jean #neil #jeremy

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

Lambing Season

little poem written on a train yesterday, about the changing springs of late <3

transcript below cut!

Lambing Season

It is lambing season.

Out between the flood plains, swollen with spring water, 

the babies on their flimsy legs stagger 

through their short green days.

It has been a warm, wet winter

and it will be a warm, dry year.

Everything warm, everything wrong

and the fields weave in and out of each other 

along the horizon from the train window.

The bridges have flooded too.

Last night, the extra hour unfurled out towards me 

surprised even at itself,

at all the time promised to us

and the blueness of the sky between the grey 

grey clouds coming in to harbour.

The lambs didn't notice, of course,

they are just learning how to walk. 

#this was fun to write i haven't written poetry in a bit !! #also orla if you're reading this i wrote this in your voice (have been watching too many of your poetrynatural amvs) <333 #in my mary oliver era fr #ola writes

[july-19th-club]

i love it when gay people are hicks . life mission of mine is to rep for the gay people who are not from cities and dont dress like it or talk like it and who don't plan to leave wherever small place they're from to be in a city, however easier it would be . i think even we think of our community as being city-based, and those of us out on the fringes get sort of forgotten unless we relocate, but we're out here! surrounded by corn tassels! looking for morels! a good 50% of us ecology people! dropping our consonants and wearing our barn boots and never seeing a gay bar ever come to our town but staying for the forest or the prairie or the desert anyway! yeehaw i love gay people

#sometimes i get so lonely thinking how hard it is to date out here . and stay out here #i mean im not gonna lie its slim pickins. most of the gay ppl i know in town are already in relationships and not looking to expand #and those that arent i dont know about because they're all closeted. so am i to an extent . i dont flag very loudly or anything #sometimes i think maybe life would be easier surrounded by people all the time. where subcultures are bigger #where visibly flagging as 'subculture' wouldn't be so stressful but the community would also be big enough that if you didnt flag. #you wouldn't miss out on anything for lack of being noticed #but then i remember mary oliver . and im like well mary oliver would not think you have to move to the city to be gay #mary oliver would just sit around on the porch watching the deer. while gay #mary oliver would encourage me to simply notice more animals

[ullybug]

flare by mary oliver

(x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x)

#ully posting...... #the thing is that his story video hit me really hard and i havent been able to stop thinking about it. so here 👍 #also the third picture makes me... anyways #linus ullmark #boston bruins #goalies #hockey poetry #mine own edit #mary oliver my very favorite poet #edit⁴ #mary oliver tag

[dnangelic]

what kind of emotion(s) do u guys write from

#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT. #i think abt tht post tht says siken writes w panic and mary oliver writes w hope n i was thinking abt #hiwatari's 'if a shadow is behind a circle then it's a sphere and if a shadow is in front of a circle then it becomes a hole' #obviously that can apply to dark + dai vs krad + sato as part of their dichotomy but its also applicable to both of them as individuals #if u include the manga bc of the way daisuke/dark's heart is. solemn and grandiose but vacant with nothing to satisfy anyone in it #everything they do or say comes from tht empty cathedral. a graveyard. the noble but desolate dust-filled underground of an opera house #i'm writing abt summer and winter but most importantly im writing abt love and light's echoes in a jet black space #i'm saying the reason dark and daisuke are always so grateful for others is because they're always so lonely #and emotionally if not socially malformed and outcast in their own ways #writing daisuke is anxiety and deep guilt on the surface with an undercurrent of pride and arrogance #writing dark is pride and arrogance on the surface with an undercurrent of anxiety and deep guilt #but anything and everything is sourced from that hollow and empty well. that 'nothing' that is a phantom thief's #restless and covetous heart #even within canon the things dark and daisuke both REALLY want- they lie to themselves lie to the audience about until they finally #either obtain or surmount it #well. anyways. sorry for tag essay #i had a lot of feelings and no place to put them 💀

[thewinedarksea]

we went to iceland! (pt 2, colorful version)

#ft. MY WIFE (top right best hair you will ever see) (also the only photo of mine and therefore lacking in the everything) #and also me bc i was having a Phenomenal hair day at solheimajokull (not spelled with the special characters bc my laptop does not have #those). the food was phenomenal; michaela's still talking about the fish. we went to this one bubble waffle place 4 separate times. #and the waterfalls!!! we went on the golden circle tour the second day and got to walk right up to the waterfall; i was soaked through. #i spent the entire day pointing at things for michaela to take pictures of and waxing rapturous on the countryside. the way it goes and goe #and goes and-- the sky and the water. the *colors*. the one mary oliver quote--he is the poem i wanted to write--except that this is the #story i would want to write in the form of a country. #losing my mind over it still. we did get to see the northern lights!! posted up in the pitch black next to the sea; everything smelling of #salt and cold; the lighthouse cutting up the night just behind us. the most magical experience. #mine.txt #iceland trip #my face #i reach for you in the night

[akindplace]

But we all know, don't we how sometimes things have to feel anger, so as not to be defeated?

I love this world, even in its hard places.

A bird too must love this world, even in its hard places

So, even if the effort may come to nothing, you have to do something.

It was generally speaking, a perfectly beautiful summer morning.

The gull beat the air with its good wing.

I kept my eyes on the road.

Mary Oliver

#mary oliver #if there is one thing you need to know about me is that Mary Oliver's poems give me the will to live #poetry #anyway I also took this pic when I was reading #about me #on hope #on love #on birds

[figbian]

OBVIOUSLY i am a quote/aestheticization of short passages/web weaver enjoyer BUT i do think it is worth thinking always about it. i like web weaving bcs it makes me think abt lacunae, the fragmentary nature of older texts, etc. & all of that. such an interesting New body of work & what is its purpose? how are people engaging w it? etc.if a web weaving post OR a quote is your only engagement with a text, what does that do? makes me think abt like how u engage w an ennius quote in cicero etc etc. all this to say blah blah blah web weaving is so fascinating but sometimes someone says the “it’s rotten work / not to me not if its you” quote is from a text called “euripides” and also forgets about the anne carson of it all and then i feel the intense need to kill everyone in the room and delete all instances of tumblr quote culture from my blog.

#rambles #saw a tweet comparing mary oliver to rupi kaur the latter of which i Hate when i loveee mary oliver (average alcuin fan behavior) #but also like Hmmmm i shit on rupi kaur but like it Is interesting to think abt what abt her is so moving. what does she do that makes her #so popular? is it similar to the recent trend of loving oliver? #like idk bad art and engaging w art on a one dimensional level + taking quotes out of context ETC are all soooooo interesting to me #guy who loves bad art voice: maybe i should reread cicero’s poetry #(DORRY CICERO FANS) #for those of u who know the context of this tweet THIS IS NOT A VAGUEPOST !!!!!

[island-in-the-shadows]

Hi! Fellow Saltburn enthusiast here! I have a question, and I’ve actually already sent it to a couple of accounts who also write extensively about Saltburn. I’d love to hear your views!

Why do you think Oliver didn’t try to kidnap/imprison/blackmail Felix into being with him instead of just jumping to murder? He was clearly capable of manipulation and probably could have found a way to keep an unwilling Felix around if he managed to get away with so many murders? I feel like even in the haze of desperation and panic it sort of should’ve struck him that killing Felix meant a lifetime of misery? It wasn’t exactly a spur of the moment kill, there was some amount of premeditation involved. I was honestly confused at how quickly Oliver made a decision that basically ensured he’d never feel a sliver of happiness ever again. How did he even manage to sleep after, knowing what he had done to Felix? The whole sequence where they look for Felix and eventually find the body is so gut wrenching to me. The music, the foreboding, the cinematography ughhhh.

Thanks for the ask anon! Ok so, I'm going to break this down in sections because there's a few different points to tackle!

Oliver does have the capability of doing horrible things, but I also do not think he's a great planner. He can only think ahead so much. And while I think that he could, arguably, find a way to kidnap Felix or find a way to blackmail him, this is contrary to what I think his goal is. I quote Cheap Trick (though I prefer the Letters to Cleo version): "I want you to want me/I need you to need me/ I'd love you to love me/ I'm beggin' you to beg me." Oliver isn't like the one guy from 365, he wants Felix to cede of his own accord and his own will. Yes, there is a level of emotional manipulation re: the lies about his family. However, I do think that when Oliver says: "I'm still the same person!" he is right. Outside of the way in which he hooked Felix, he would have no reason to be different. Stands to reason, in my opinion, that he is who he is with Felix bar exaggerations and implications of his past.

Let's talk about murder...Oliver only murdered Elspeth. He facilitated the deaths of Felix and Venetia. Murder not only requires intent, it requires certainty beyond a reasonable doubt of direct action. I was raised by lawyers so I view things through that lens. At most, if we were going by American law, which is the one I know, he would arguably fall under the category of voluntary manslaughter. Why? Because he did not directly do an act which led to Felix and Venetia's deaths. Rather, he put the dominos in place and that can be classed as a provocation; he provoked them in a way that led to their deaths. (Note: I am not delulu, I am aware that all of this is wrong. I'm just trying to put it forth from a legal POV.)

When it comes to Felix, he hastily put cocaine in the champagne and I do not think he thought it through way in advance. Secondly, he had the bottle in his hand for large parts of the maze conversation and deciding to give it to Felix was a spur of the moment action. Third, he had no way of knowing whether Felix would drink or not. Fourthly, Felix had ALREADY been doing drugs and you cannot specifically pinpoint, beyond a reasonable doubt, that it was the little bit of cocaine he drank (which, from research, would actually have been less potent and less quick to get into Felix's bloodstream than the lines he snorted) that caused him to OD. Fifthly, I am not entirely convinced that Oliver knew it was going to foolproof kill Felix. The way he wakes up the morning after still has the stink of hope. So, I can't be certain either way if his intent was to kill or to simply cause Felix to OD to the point he was taken to a hospital and then Ollie could Nurse Nightingale the situation.

When it comes to Venetia, Oliver did not tell her to use the razors. He placed the razors on the tub. He did so relatively impulsively (likely, imo in a bit of rage) and at the last minute. He had absolutely no way of knowing whether Venetia would take the razors and he had no way of knowing that she would use them in a deadly way rather than in a way to hurt herself but not kill. Further, from the bit that we get of the crime scene in the bathroom (I did pause it so I kinda memorised), there is no indication in the scene that Oliver was actually the one to use the razors. The scene would look entirely different and his clothes would be soiled or he would have blood on him, etc.

That being said, Oliver's desperation and panic and anxiety regarding the situation with Felix likely led him to the following thought: he would rather exist in a world where Felix ceases to exist, than exist in a world where he is inexorably removed from Felix. Felix was and continues to be Oliver's whole world. He likely thought that he was going to lose Felix either way. But, in Felix dying, he and Felix stay inherently connected. He can leave Saltburn but now he and Felix are forever linked. Elspeth, for example, automatically associates Oliver with Felix. It's why Oliver knew he had an in with her all those years later. Further, and I think I wrote this elsewhere, Felix's headstone will ALWAYS have Felix's date of birth, and the date of Oliver's 20th birthday. They are linked in this way as well.

I think it was all very rushed and confused when he did any of it. I think there might've been a chance for him and Felix even in the sense of friendship. But Oliver reacted emotionally and impulsively. He didn't plan putting the cocaine in the bottle probably until a couple of minutes before he did it. He didn't plan the thing with Venetia. He didn't plan getting Saltburn from the start. The only thing he planned and orchestrated was a Romcom style meet-cute. That was it. The rest he made up as he went along from noticing all the little details about Felix. But ultimately, above all, this weird little man wanted to be wanted and wanted to be loved by the object of his affection. Forcing the matter with kidnapping and/or blackmail was not going to get him what he truly wanted anymore than Felix's death did.

How does he manage to sleep? Self-medication, certainly. Pretty sure he yo-yo's uppers and downers like crazy. Coke to dance like the lonely mad king he is in the afternoon, Xanny or weed at night to come down and sleep. What's more, Saltburn is an extension of Felix and it, likely, comforts him to be in a place that represents Felix. A place that is haunted by the ghosts of memories he shared with Felix to which we are not privy.

Also, yes. Finding Felix's corpse, the whole scene, is stunning and staggering and heartbreaking. Absolutely stunning film craft involved all the way around.

Sorry for the loooong response, but I am a lawyer's daughter and an English Literature major, so I had to write my mini essay with some level of (certainly biased) evidentiary support.

#mari answers #saltburn #Oliver quick #felix catton #venetia catton #Elspeth catton #I have definitely given this a lot of thought ngl #I could probably write essays on essays on essays about this film and all the diverse different topics that spring from the well of it #but also I am exploring some of the themes in my fic so