Category Archives: Buffy

Willow: Wonderland

Posted on by under Books, Buffy, Buffyverse, Whedonverse, Pop Culture

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Spoilers below for the Buffyverse comics. 

Joss Whedon introduced me to the comic world with Fray, and then with Buffy, Angel After the Fall, and Angel and Faith. Oh, and the Serenity and Dollhouse comics. Basically, if Whedon writes/directs/creates something, I consume it. But not without judgment. Buffy Season 8 was, ultimately, rather disappointing. The Twilight storyline… yeah… if it hadn’t been Whedon, I wouldn’t have kept reading. Even he nearly lost me though when Buff and Angel were having acrobatic flying sex… but I stuck it out… and I’m enjoying the journey. Whedon himself has admitted he made some mistakes with Season 8, and he’s making up for it in Season 9, which I’m enjoying much more. I also enjoyed Angel After the Fall, but I’m loving Angel and Faith even more. (And I must briefly mention – of course Giles’ soul was claimed by Eyghon when he died! Brilliant development going on over there). The comics have gained their footing, and the world is expanding in great ways. And I actually think the greatest piece is the Willow miniseries I finally had the chance to read. Whedon was the exec producer, and I’d love to know how much he poured into the storyline… because everything from the Zen Caterpillar – whom we learn Lewis Carroll based his caterpillar on – to Willow’s self discovery was fucking awesome.

We’ve been watching Willow grow and struggle with magic since the early days of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She really has a chance to shine in this comic, sans Buffy and pals. On her own, we see a confident, strong witch – but she’s never stopped struggling with her Dark Willow past. The early appearance of the Zen caterpillar tells us that we’re going on a journey inwards, a mythic journey about the light and the dark (only seeming opposites; Joseph Campbell’s hero journey shows us that the hero will transcend these) and real power (it comes from within, as the Eastern traditions teach). So, of course, Marrak was Rack! I should’ve seen it coming. She had to battle one last element from her dark past – she’s already confronted her demons with Amy and Warren, so this was the last step for Strawberry to claim all parts of herself, light and dark, and give something back to the world.

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This quest has been building for Willow for years, and I’m eager to see its payoff as she returns to Buffy’s comic with the Slayer’s Scythe – which, awesome sidenote, is the frickin’ counterpart to Excalibur!!

WonderCon 2013

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Photographs, Pop Culture, Whedonverse

Last week, I had the awesome opportunity to attend all 3 days of WonderCon. I was going to write up a detailed blog-post, but in the busy-ness of life, it’s now a week after the Con, and you can find a million write-ups all over the net. You can probably even find video of most if not all of the panels. So, in this post, I’m bringing you a series of small slideshows highlighting all my favorite parts of the Con – including the much anticipated Much Ado About Nothing panel with Joss Whedon & his cast! Enjoy!

 

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All photos © MythGirl 2013

For the Love of Buffy!

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Pop Culture, Whedonverse

It’s just so incredible… who would have thought that a TV show would have impacted me so much? I can’t believe we’re coming up on the 16 year anniversary of Buffy‘s premiere. I have officially been a fan of Whedon for half my life!

BtVS S02E22 Swordy Buffy

Buffy’s been on my mind today, so I wanted to write a quick post. It all started this morning when Whedonesque linked to lostboy_lj’s LiveJournal post: “The Monomythology of Buffy.” It was one of the first things I read today. A brief post accompanied with Buffy images to chronicle Buffy’s descent into the underworld and return with the boon. This sparked my interest more than your average Buffy article because this was the topic of my entire Master’s thesis. It was interesting to see what lostboy_lj plugged into each piece of the wheel as I had different selections. At some point when I’m not still working on my own research for grad school, I want to pour over his selections in more detail. For now, it just made me happy to see people are still talking about Campbell, still talking about Buffy, and still working the pop-culture to myth connection. It’s a strong connection that I’m really surprised doesn’t get talked about even more.

As I continued through my day, checking into social media as I do, I just kept seeing Buffy everywhere. This is of course because I follow fellow fans on Twitter and pages like SlayerLit on Facebook. In fact, SlayerLit posted 3 new articles on Buffy today from just the last few days. I simply must link to them. I’ll confess I haven’t had a chance to read them all yet, but I plan to. And if you’re here, you’d probably like to read them too:

One Man’s Myth: How Joss Whedon Showed Me the Crack in the Invisible Wall

Myths About Joss Whedon (That Keep Non-Whedonistas Away)

A Love Letter to Buffy Summers

It’s nothing new that people are still talking about Buffy – it just makes me crazy happy that they are. This show has so much depth, substance, and life in it. Not to mention, Buffy was as much of my high school experience as anyone else I met sophomore year. There’s no doubt that the nostalgia factor is just as important to me as the brilliance of the series. And the fact that I was able to take my best friend Buffy with me from high school into college and then into the world of academia in graduate school and beyond… it’s really been a great journey.

“They were fluffy indigenous kittens, till we came along”: Chumash Representation in Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Grad School, Whedonverse, Words for Wednesday, Writing

I wrote this essay last holiday season for my Native American grad class. Enjoy!

Our modern American mythology and history is intricately connected with the experiences of the Native Americans and their early contact with the Spanish and the Europeans. As Slotkin notes in Regeneration Through Violence, “Their [Native American] concerns, their hopes, their terrors, their violence, and their justifications of themselves, as expressed in literature, are the foundation stones of the mythology that informs our history” (4). Furthermore, “the myth of regeneration through violence became the structuring metaphor of the American experience” (5). Currently, this can be seen operating through the highly popular American myth of the vampire, a creature that faces death through violence and is reborn, or regenerated, to live forever. The vampire itself bares some similarities to the notion of the violent savage Native American that was perpetuated in the New World. Many Europeans depicted that these savages were “nonhuman” and controlled by the “dark forces of the blood” (Rexroth qtd. in Slotin). This description certainly applies to the vampire as well. Immediately, therefore, there is a connection between Buffy and our frontier history.

Unfortunately, native history is often either denigrated to a form of history deemed appropriate only to the grade school classroom, or it is deeply misunderstood. Pearce makes it clear that two contradictory images of natives exist: “subhuman” (like the savage referenced above) and “nobleman” (like the noble savage discussed below) (179). Confusingly, native “virtues and vices” have historically been both “praised and dispraised” (200). A sense of this disjointedness is delivered in season four of the popular television series Buffy the Vampire Slayer. “Pangs,” the only Thanksgiving episode from the seven seasons of Buffy, seeks to address our history and touches greatly on our American myth of the natives “as a noble savage, above and beyond the vices of civilized men” (Pearce 169). This depiction is not unique to Buffy as natives are often “described and portrayed in thousands of movies, television programs, books, articles, and government studies” as this noble savage (Gibson 8).

The primary plot thread in “Pangs” is simple: when the local college starts digging to build the new Cultural Center, an old Spanish Mission that had collapsed in the 1800s is discovered underground. When this area is disturbed, the Chumash Vengeance Spirit Hus is released. He begins committing murders in Sunnydale, the fictional Southern California city the series is set in, and Buffy and her friends (typically referred to as “The Scoobies”) face a new type of problem. While no one wants to see anyone else murdered or injured by Hus, Buffy and her friend Willow also do not want to harm the Spirit because they recognize his plight. Willow is especially vocal about her concern, claiming that they should be “helping him redress his wrongs [and] bring the atrocities to light” (“Pangs”). The debate about how to manage Hus is prevalent throughout the episode, mirroring our own conflicting understanding of native tribes and history.

Initially seen as a “primitive man” (Slotin 55), the Native American was dismissed during Early Contact as unsophisticated and underdeveloped. Many Americans maintain the primitive image of original Native Americans, but also see them as victims, as seen in the popular image of the noble savage. Under this view, the native is seen as an outsider and typically one worthy of pity. Indeed, As McCall and Perry note, Native Americans became “outcasts in their own land” (16). This notion has helped to develop the sense of guilt that Americans, as depicted on Buffy, hold for what occurred at early contact. In the episode “Pangs,” similarity is further depicted between Native Americans and two particular vampires in Buffy’s life, Spike and Angel. While most of the vampires Buffy encounters are merely demons driven by bloodlust, Spike and Angel are exceptions. Angel is the only vampire with a soul, and Spike, by this point, has had a chip implanted in his brain that prevents him from attacking humans. He is essentially a neutered and harmless vampire. Therefore, Spike and Angel are both outsiders in their own community of vampires. Rhonda Wilcox, considered the founder and mother of Buffy studies, discussed this episode in the online Slayage journal and indicated that “the two major subjects [of “Pangs”] are Buffy’s attitude towards the Indigenous and Angel” (3). Wilcox also elaborates on the similarities between Spike, Angel and Hus in the episode, referring to the original shooting script that describes Spike as “a picture of misery and longing” (Espenson qtd. in Wilcox 6). Wilcox elaborates on the topic in great detail, clearly depicting the outsider position of the Natives and these two particular vampires.

I see another important comparison in the episode that has not been addressed in any of the Buffy literature (most of which is overviewed in Wilcox’s article): Buffy herself is an outsider like Hus. The series overall constantly reminds viewers that Buffy just wants to be a normal girl. Though she develops a group of close-knit friends that help her slay, in this season Buffy and her friends drift apart. In fact, the Thanksgiving dinner at the end of the episode is the last time we will see the Scoobies peacefully assembled until the end of the season. Buffy has always been an outsider, and this season of the series in particular demonstrates how she can function as an outsider even within her own close group. I think this is another important reason, beyond her claim to collective national native guilt, Buffy sympathizes with Hus in the episode.

As I argued in my master’s thesis on Buffy, the series operates as a modern mythology and holds deep resonance for the viewers involved with the program since it originally aired fifteen years ago. The series’ devoted fan base and the presence of continually expanding academic scholarship certainly speaks to the important place Buffy holds in popular culture. One role mythologies hold is to point to relevant problems, though not to offer solutions (this is an idea commonly discussed in mythological studies). In “Pangs,” Buffy poignantly demonstrates its role as a mythology by speaking to our collective history and examining a collective issue. Like a true mythology though, Buffy does not offer us a solution. As Wilcox notes, “‘Pangs’ is a problem play, not a solution play” (12). The episode brings up important elements to be discussed, evaluated, and understood. It is important that the episode does not offer a solution because “issues and conflicts involving American Indians today . . . are not easily understood [and cannot] be readily resolved” (Gibson 11). To offer a quick solution in a forty-two minute television episode would undermine the seriousness of the situation.

Overall, “Pangs” brings to life the myth that heavily maintained in North America of the noble savage and our desire to look at natives kindly. This image has been popular since the nineteenth century when Longfellow and other “writers of fiction . . . sometimes expressed American guilt feelings by celebrating the noble savage” (Pearce 196). Some of the misrepresentation in the episode is critical as it depicts long-term, common national misunderstanding. At the beginning of the episode, there is a dedication to a new Cultural Center, and Professor Gerhardt declares the importance of this center being built as Thanksgiving approaches: “Because that’s what the melting pot is about – contributions from all cultures, making our culture stronger” (“Pangs”). While Buffy stands at the back of the ceremony with her friends, Willow criticizes the professor’s comments, expressing that Thanksgiving is actually “about one culture wiping out another” (“Pangs”). Willow shares that her mom does not celebrate Thanksgiving or Columbus Day because those days are about “the destruction of the indigenous peoples” (“Pangs”). Buffy notes that she never thought of it like that before. Indeed, Buffy’s perspective here is representative of average modern American. Willow’s disapproval of our “animated specials . . . with the maize and the big, big belt buckles” certainly points to our standard treatment of this national holiday.

Shortly after this rousing conversation between Buffy and Willow, the spirit Hus is released from the hidden mission. When Buffy later learns of his violent presence in Sunnydale, the Scoobies begin to research Chumash history. The episode continues to depict the modern American misunderstandings of history and reimaginings of natives. Willow claims that the Chumash “were fluffy, indigenous kittens, till we came along” (“Pangs”). A brief review of Chumash history indicates that this was not the case: “We know from archaeological, ethnohistoric, and ethnographic data that Chumash internal conflict existed and at times intensified” (Gamble 248). Furthermore, diaries from early encounters with the Chumash indicate that they were “involved in battles prior to their first contact with Europeans” (Gamble 250). Works from Ferguson, Blick, and Ferguson and Whitehead reviewed by Gamble do indicate that “European colonization [increased] the level of violence among traditional groups” (Gamble 254). Of course, when facing repression and abuse, the natives tried to strike back. Importantly, though, this was not their first exposure to violence. To see the natives as only peaceful fails to recognize their full historical existence, customs, and traits. A deeper investigation of history clearly depicts that, despite Willow’s assertion (which is akin to other Americans), the Chumash were a violent people before colonization. In part, this begins to undermine the image of the noble savage.

When Buffy first personally meets Hus, he has just killed a priest at a Church. Buffy responds with her Slayer instincts and begins to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the violent Chumash Spirit. When Buffy ultimately gains the upper hand in the fight, Hus claims, “You slaughtered my people. Now you kill their spirit. This is a great day for you” (“Pangs”). This rattles Buffy as she remembers he is not like the evil demons she usually slays. She shoves him away from her and allows him to flee. This scene first operates to demonstrate Buffy’s confused attitude toward Hus: as a Slayer, she needs to stop his violence; as a Modern American, she feels guilt and pity towards him. Also, though she herself may not immediately recognize it, she relates to him as both an outsider and a fighter. After her encounter, Buffy complains to the Scoobies about her discomfort with the situation: “I like my evil . . . straight up, black hat, ‘Tied to the train tracks, soon my electro-ray will destroy metropolis’ bad. Not all mixed up with guilt and the destruction of an indigenous culture” (“Pangs”). Importantly, Buffy’s sense of confusion is also representative of our past with Native Americans.

Furthermore, the scene between Buffy and Hus offers viewers a more detailed look a Hus. His visual depiction is akin to the stereotypical image of Native Americans that comes from “film and visual culture [that has] provided the primary representational field on which Native American images have been displayed to dominant culture audiences in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries” (Raheja 29). In other words, it is not entirely accurate. Hus is dressed head to toe in presumably “traditional” Indian garb, and his hair dangles down toward his shoulders. However, historical documentation indicates that Chumash men “usually went naked but painted their bodies, wore their long hair up wrapped with cords and attached shell beads” (Gamble 2). (The same description can also be found in Paez qtd. in McCall and Perry 23). There is very little about Hus’s visual appearance that represents the traditional Chumash. He simply looks like the clichéd American “Indian.” Unfortunately, the episode seems to have made the error of grouping all Native Americans together. Even in their approach of Chumash history, the Scoobies demonstrate the common of error of believing that the term “Chumash” properly encompasses a large group of natives. This is not the case, however. While they “shared many cultural traits, ‘the Chumash were neither a cultural nor a linguistic entity per se’” (Blackburn qtd. in Gamle 8). Simply put, “The Chumash were not a unified group” (Anderson 7). The Scoobieshave made the common error of assuming similarities of Native American tribes.

A final noteworthy element in the scene between Hus and Buffy is Hus’s speech, which has been accurately described as “clipped, simple English” (Sally Emmons qtd. in Wilcox 59). According to Gibson, while Spanish was usually the first language of the Chumash, as colonization continued, “many [spoke] English as well” (89). It is reasonable that Hus would be able to speak English, but the way he speaks it is so basic that it nearly seems insulting. Wilcox accurately assesses that “Hus seems to be less of a person and more of a symbol” (5). However, the intricacies – or lack thereof – in his representation do not accurately depict the rich, developed nature of Chumash. The episode continues to play to the notion of the noble savage that emphasizes the assumed simplicity of “peaceful and benign” natives with “every amiable virtue” (Pearce 140; Freneau qtd in Pearce 145).

As the episode continues, it is revealed that Buffy’s friend Xander, who initially disrupted the sacred site at the groundbreaking ceremony for the Cultural Center, has been mystically cursed with diseases by Hus. He is plagued with the same “European-introduced diseases [that] continued to kill Indians by the thousands” (Gibson 84). This “heavy loss of life from the dreaded European diseases” is also noted by McCall and Perry (15). Additionally, Anderson notes that some Chumash sucked illnesses from patients and/or sent magical poisons to enemies” (7). Xander’s curse accurately represents the diseases that killed many natives at the point of European contact and further demonstrates the Chumash’s affinity for vengeance. According to Gamble’s research, “revenge was viewed as a primary motive” for conflict with the Chumash (271). If a Chumash Spirit could indeed rise in modern America, it is not a stretch to imagine that he would seek revenge.

Xander’s situation also brings forth a brief but significant discussion of vengeance. To begin with, Xander’s girlfriend Anya, another significant character in the series, is herself an ex-vengeance demon. When it becomes clear that Willow and Buffy are interested in verbally resolving the conflict with Hus, Xander angrily declares, “He’s a vengeance demon. You don’t talk to vengeance demons. You kill them” (“Pangs”). Anya is of course disturbed by this and argues: “Sometimes vengeance is justified” (“Pangs”). (Concepts of vengeance and justice continue to surface in the series, but that discussion is beyond the scope of this paper). Buffy quickly interrupts the group’s dialogue to focus on cooking Thanksgiving dinner (something she is greatly pre-occupied with throughout the episode). Anya and Xander have both made important statements. Xander has been personally injured by Hus and wants him stopped. Anya understands the importance of vengeance, a key concept that underlies the entire episode. A historical source from Fr. Jose Seflan indicates that the Chumash “had some sort of knowledge of warfare but almost always they would kill their adversaries [and] “take vengeance on them” (qtd. in Gamble 257). This conversation between the Scoobies accurately depicts the presence of vengeance in the Chumash culture and continues to fuel the debate that occurs within the group of how to approach the problem with Hus.

Though the episode accurately integrates concepts of vengeance related to the Chumash, it inaccurately assesses Hus’s motivation in attacking certain individuals. Xander was attacked simply because he was the first to disrupt Hus, but the other victims are authority figures. According to Angel, this is because Hus is “a warrior [and] to a warrior, the leader means the strongest fighter” (“Pangs”). While it is understandable that the series wanted to portray the vengeful Hus a warrior, his character is not representative of the hunter/gatherer role of the Chumash tribes. The depiction of warriorhood in Hus is representative of another common problem in American film: “seemingly respectful and balanced representations [of Native Americans] are often rooted in uncritical, problematic racial ideologies that reflect unexamined notions of Native American culture on the part of the director and on the part of North American society as a whole” (Raheja 47). Historically, “Warriors were not a topic of great interest in the oral traditions of the Chumash” (Gamble 260). By focusing on the warrior image in “Pangs,” Buffy continues toplay to the notion of Native Americans as savage and simple-minded. As mentioned, this is not an uncommon misperception; even at early contact it Europeans believed that natives “ha[d] not yet acquired civilized vices” (Pearce 18). However, Gamble’s detailed research makes it clear that Chumash tribes were “more complex than previously thought” (271). They had a sophisticated economic system, and it was actually “control over wealth [that] create[d] a basis for political power” in Chumash society (279).

On their quest to discover how to approach Hus, the characters have tried visiting a priest and have consulted historical documents. Their discussion of Chumash seems to indicate they are discussing a dead culture. However, there are currently 5,000 Chumash in California (Gibson 97). The plight of the natives is not something purely historical as it appears in this episode. The Chumash are an active culture currently operating as “prominent spokespeople for many environmental issues facing the people of California and the rest of the world” (93). Yet the episode never makes mention of their continual survival. To be fair, though, not every aspect of the Chumash can be addressed in one forty-two minute television episode.

As Hus continues on his path of vengeance, he beckons other spirits to help him take the fight to Buffy. He calls forth: “First people who dwell in Mishupashup, hear me and descend. Walk with me upon Itiashup again. Hear me also, Nunashush, spirits from below, creatures of the night. Take human form and join the battle. Bring me my revenge” (“Pangs”). Though viewers are not likely to focus on the details included in this quick line, accurate reference is made here to the Chumash mythology, referring to the “world we live in” Itiashup (Garces-Foley 17), and the upper world, Mishupashup (Fuchs). The creatures he calls on, Nunashush, are “dangerous creatures” according to Chumash myth (Gibson 13). This line colorfully represents Chumash mythology, though it is brief. Again though, there are constraints to how much can be presented in television one episode. However, this is enough to point to the importance of the beliefs the Chumash held, which Hus uses to gain assistance.

After gathering other spirits to help him, Hus takes the fight to Buffy, attacking her and the Scoobies as they are preparing Thanksgiving dinner. The Chumash attack Buffy with arrows, offering viewers another accurate representation of Chumash life. Anderson explains the bow and arrow was a common weapon for the Chumash (11), and Gamble elaborates that it was often the weapon of choice “used to threaten or carry out force” (269). Ultimately, during the climax of the battle, Hus transforms himself into a bear. While this is, of course, effective in creating more fear in Buffy, it also points to other important elements of Chumash culture. To begin with, some shamans could purportedly “change themselves into bears, the fiercest and most powerful land animals known to the Chumash.” (Anderson 7). Furthermore, bears also functioned as “supernatural helpers in dreams” and they “confer[red] great strength and courage” (McCall and Perry 42). It is significant that Hus chooses this defense as his last attempt to defeat the Slayer. However, at this point, Buffy discovers how to kill Hus (by using his own knife) and destroys the Chumash spirit, along with his followers.

In order to survive, Buffy and her friends had no choice in fighting back against the vengeance spirit. Despite her attempt for a “nice, non-judgmental way to, you know, kill him,” Buffy ultimately relied on her standard Slayer skills to defeat him (“Pangs”). Buffy is not proud of defeating Hus. Indeed, the entire episode has demonstrated her contention with the issue. After surviving the battle, Willow again is the one to voice concern about the treatment of natives: “Did you see me? Two seconds of conflict with an indigenous person, and I turned into General Custer” (“Pangs”). The character Giles defends the Scoobies’ winning defense of Hus’s attack on them: “Violence does that. Instinct takes over” (“Pangs”). His statement holds truth. The Scoobies were threatened, and they successfully defended themselves. Everyone is pleased to have survived, though Buffy and Willow especially dis pleased with their means.

Though not all of the details in the episode are historically accurate, overall “Pangs” presents a rich, “controversial” (Wilcox 1), thought-provoking and exceptionally significant episode that stirs the viewers’ curiosity and imagination. The Scoobies cannot solve our national confusion of native tribes or are violent history with them, but the episode offers an accurate account of modern American myth. As Raheja discusses of film, the presence of natives in popular culture has the “ability to function as a placeholder: as a representational practice it does not mirror reality but can enact important cultural work as an art form with ties to the world of everyday practices and the imaginative sphere of the possible” (77).  The episode cannot offer us a solution because “[t]ry hard as he might, the American primitivist who chose to image the Indian as noble savage [cannot] fully escape the confusion and vitiation his choice” (Pearce 147).

While “Pangs” holds importance for the United States collectively, it has a heightened importance in Southern California where, as noted in the episode, the Chumash resided. Though Buffy’s fictional town Sunnydale does not exist, the town is representative of its geographical location. Therefore, this episode and its historical background are of an even deeper interest and importance to those of us living in this area. As a life-long resident of Southern California and a student residing at Pacifica Graduate Institute, which is near many original Chumash sites, this episode points to an area of history that resides under the very ground I walk on.

 

 

 

Works Cited

Anderson, Eugene N. The Chumash Indians of Southern California. Banning: Malki Museum,

1981. Print.

“Pangs.” Writ. Jane Espenson. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The WB. 23 Nov. 1999. Television.

Fuchs, Harald. “Alapay Mishupashup.” Encyclopedia Mythica. 5 Feb. 2005. Web. 26 Mar. 2012.

Gamble, Lynn H. The Chumash World at European Contact: Power, Trade, and Feasting among

Complex Hunter-gatherers. Berkeley: University of California, 2008. Kindle.

Garces-Foley, Kathleen. Death and Religion in a Changing World. Armonk, N.Y: M.E. Sharpe,

2006. Print.

Gibson, Robert O. Indians of North America: The Chumash. Ed. Frank W. Porter III. New York:

Chelsea House, 1991. Print.

McCall, Lynne, and Rosalind Perry. California’s Chumash Indians: A Project of the Santa

Barbara Museum of Natural History Education Center. San Luis Obispo, CA: EZ Nature, 1988. Print.

Pearce, Roy H. Savagism and Civilization: A Study of the Indian and the American Mind.

Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988. Print.

Raheja, Michelle H. Reservation Reelism: Redfacing, Visual Sovereignty, and Representations of

Native Americans in Film. Lincoln and London: Univ of Nebraska, 2010. Kindle.

Slotkin, Richard. Regeneration Through Violence: The Mythology of the American Frontier,

1600-1860. New York, NY: HarperPerennial, 1996. Print.

Wilcox, Rhonda V. “”Let It Simmer”: Tone in “Pangs”" Slayage: The Journal of the Whedon

Studies Association 33 (2011): 1-14. Web. 26 Feb. 2012.

Death and Sacrifice: Season 5 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Grad School, PCA, Pop Culture, Whedonverse, Words for Wednesday, Writing

Welcome to Words for Wednesday! Below is a paper I presented at the Popular Culture Association conference in San Antonio, Texas in April of 2011. I’ve included the images used in my original power point presentation. I originally wrote it the paper for graduate school in 2009 and revamped it for presentation to a Whedon-y audience. Enjoy!


Joss Whedon created a contemporary mythology for a modern audience through Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Within the storylines of this mythology lie powerful characters and endless parallels to issues individuals face in society today. Throughout the seven seasons of Buffy, Whedon offers metaphors that speak to the trials and tribulations of life. These include everything from the teen angst of high school to the loss of loved ones. As a series that involves vampires and other demons, Buffy constantly depicts the metaphor of life eating on life (an idea frequently discussed by mythologist Joseph Campbell), and symbols of death abound. In the fifth season of the series, death becomes an exceptionally poignant element as Buffy suffers the loss of her mother and later the Slayer sacrifices her own life. Ultimately, Joss Whedon utilizes season five to depict the pain of such loss and show viewers how to embrace death. Like all useful mythologies, Buffy reflects the current societal state, giving viewers something to relate to, while also offering another approach to dealing with concerns of life and death, an important concern also addressed through ritual.


In our modern American society, our funerary rituals do not grant us the time needed to effectively manage the loss of loved ones. Americans do not have the opportunity to embrace the experience of death and loss for months or years. The process of the funeral and the return to “normal” daily life is rushed. The experience of the shock and grief involved with losing a loved one is powerful, and the fifth season of Buffy aptly and necessarily demonstrates this experience.
According to religious historian Mircea Eliade, “the supreme function of the myth is to ‘fix’ the paradigmatic models for all rites and significant human activities” (98). While a television series does not offer viewers new rituals, it opens a space for individuals to consider and contemplate events they have experienced and reflect on how they respond to those experiences. Whedon speaks to the American way of encountering death and ultimately embraces ideas from traditions outside of America, accepting “[t]he challenge death poses for the cultural community” and working “to integrate it into cosmological schema” (Grillo 22).


Before sacrificing her own life, Buffy faces the loss of her mother, Joyce. Whedon masterfully captures the horrors of this event. Though Buffy has faced death and tragedy throughout the first five years of the series, nothing compares to this loss. “The Body,” which includes no musical score, is arguably the most powerful episode of the fifth season of Buffy because of its chilling realism. As the title reveals, the episode sharply focuses on the image of the dead body. The episode begins with the moment Buffy finds Joyce dead on the couch and ends when she again sees her mother’s body in the morgue.

When Buffy finds her mother’s body, she promptly calls 911. She explains to the dispatcher that, “She’s cold.” When the dispatcher questions if, “the body is cold,” an offended Buffy declares, “No, my mom!” Before the paramedics enter, Giles arrives and rushes towards Joyce. Buffy exclaims, “We’re not supposed to move the body!” (“Body”) She raises her hand to her face in shock of what she just said. That shift in her language signifies that ghastly moment of realization – her mother is not coming back. This episode is painful to watch; however, it demonstrates reactions experienced with loss, reactions we sometimes try to hide.


When the episodes show the Scoobies reaction to the loss of Joyce, Anya poignantly articulates the pain and confusion of death. Though she often fashioned death and destruction during her thousand years as a vengeance demon, it never personally affected her. Anya expresses frustration with the mystery of death:

But I don’t understand! I don’t understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she’s, there’s just a body, and I don’t understand why she just can’t get back in it and not be dead anymore. It’s stupid. It’s mortal and stupid. And, and Xander’s crying and not talking, and, and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch ever, and she’ll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why. (“Body”)


This discussion impeccably echoes Joseph Campbell’s discussion on death: “The question is, What has happened to this body? It was walking around, it was warm, it lied down, it was cold. Where has it gone? This idea of where it has gone is the first clue we have to a mythological thought” (Hero’s 70). Through Anya’s questions, Whedon is discussing prominent mythological concerns.


Why are people supposed to avoid asking the questions Anya presents? “Are we going to see the body? . . . Are we going to be in the room with the dead body? . . . Are they going to cut the body open?” (“Body”). Willow declares, “It’s not okay to ask these things.” This is the American approach. However, “Death, a fundamental, inevitable, physiological fact, seems to point to the most objective aspect of human existence – that we are material creatures subject to the physical conditions of the physical world” (Grillo 21). We should not be afraid to talk about it openly and directly. In addition to addressing mythological thought, Anya’s questions open the door to questions we are not “supposed” to discuss. Whedon intentionally makes viewers uncomfortable throughout “The Body.” In America, we do not have an appropriate manner of coping with death. By making us uncomfortable, Whedon demonstrates the need for change in our culture.


In her essay on “Funerary Rituals,” Laura Grillo explains, “the Toradja ‘cult of the dead,’ far from being a horrifying or morbid preoccupation with death, can be understood to affirm the continuity between the animated world of the living and the spiritual world beyond which it depends” (5). The Day of the Dead and the Cult of the Dead are examples of communities embracing death and allowing the processes of acceptance and transformation to take place over time. The Day of the Dead allows members to “memorialize [the dead and give] ritualized attention . . . to the deceased” (Turner and Jasper 139). The Texas-Mexicans are able to “use the tools of tradition to externalize their encounter with death and loss” (Turner and Jasper 149). They allow the time needed for coping. The Toradja keep their dead for up to a year, allowing for the process of moving from one realm to the next. This also allows for an unrushed grieving process: “Death must be apprehended, its chaotic and terrifying potential arrested and regulated by culture. The Toradja funeral rituals recognize death as a consumption but regulate it with prescribed steps circumscribed by the determinative meaning that culture ascribes” (Grillo 16-17). While the Toradja way will not likely become the American way, we are in need of a longer progression for our death rituals.


In the episode after “The Body,” Buffy has to make the arrangements for her mother’s funeral. Afterwards, Buffy explains to Angel, “The funeral was . . . brutal, but it’s tomorrow that I’m worried about . . . Tomorrow the stuff of everyday living resumes” (“Forever”). In America, the rituals and traditions typically end after the funeral. There may be a gathering after the funeral to share memories and a meal, but then life must go on. In “Intervention” Buffy explains to Giles that she is considering taking a break from slaying because she doesn’t like what it’s doing to her. “To slay, to kill, it means being hard on the inside. Maybe being the perfect Slayer means being too hard to love at all” (“Intervention”). Giles informs Buffy that previous Slayers went to “a sacred place in the desert” for “regaining their focus, learning more about their role.” Buffy accepts Giles’ offer to take her to this sacred place. Of course, as Eliade explains, “men are not free to choose the sacred site . . . they only seek for it and find it by the help of mysterious signs” (Eliade 28).


Giles takes Buffy into the desert and performs a ritual to invoke Buffy’s guide. He cannot take her any further. A mountain lion soon appears to lead Buffy to the sacred site. According to the philosopher Macrobius, “lions are emblematic of the earth” (qtd. in Cooper 98). Since the Earth “is the universal archetype of . . . sustenance,” the symbol of her guide indicates that this spiritual quest is going to provide her the nourishment she needs to move forward with her life and cope with her loss” (Cooper 59). Whedon and his team of writers masterfully utilize these symbols to affect a resonating image for viewers. Whether Whedon or the readers are consciously aware of the meanings can be argued; regardless, the collective unconscious, to use Carl Jung’s term, recognizes them.


After the lion leads Buffy to the sacred location, she awaits the arrival of her spirit guide. This guide appears in the form of The First Slayer. She speaks to Buffy’s fears and informs her, “You are full of love. You love with all of your soul. It’s brighter than the fire, blinding . . . Love is pain, and the Slayer forges strength from pain. Love, give, forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift.” While this sentiment initially comforts Buffy, the First Slayer then reveals to Buffy that death is her gift. Buffy argues, “Death is not a gift. My mother just died. I know this. If I have to kill demons because it makes the world a better place, then I kill demons, but it’s not a gift to anybody” (“Intervention”). According to Joseph Campbell, “We live by killing, which is what you do even when you are eating grapes. You are still killing something. Life just lives on life. And it’s the one life in all of these different heads of mouths eating itself. It’s a fantastic mystery” (Hero’s 12). Buffy must reconcile herself to the role she has a Slayer. The acceptance of death as a function of life is imperative for Buffy. Whedon utilizes this episode to set up the climactic conclusion of the season, but also to demonstrate the time of reflection we need to take for ourselves after facing death. Buffy’s spiritual quest presents the difficulty of accepting death and represents the post-funerary rituals that America is missing.


After the presentation in season five of various mythological and ritualistic elements, Whedon speaks directly to the significance of sacrifice and ritual in the season finale “The Gift.” To begin with, Glory prepares to sacrifice Dawn and, consequently, unleash hellish dimensions. In Read’s discussion, she indicates that “people must calculate their actions so that they do not upset their family’s, city’s, or sun’s spiraling motion” (152). Buffy must work to spare not only her remaining family and her city, but her world and many others, from spiraling into a destructive atmosphere.


Concerning the ritual, Glory forces Dawn to change into a ceremonial dress, honoring the sacredness of ritual sacrifice. When Read discusses “ritual costume” in “The Cosmic Meal,” she indicates that every “costume . . . embodie[s] a particular force” (147). There is an “exchange” made to create “a new force” (147). Although Dawn was not born human, she is a completely innocent creature, another element typical of ritual sacrifice. As Joseph de Maistre explains, “sacrificial animals [are] the gentlest, most innocent creatures, whose habits and instincts [bring] them most closely to [being] human in nature” (qtd. in Girard 241). Dawn characterizes the notion that “the ritual victim is an ‘innocent’ creature who pays a debt for the guilty party” (241). It is important for Whedon to demonstrate such elements of ritual here because he has been speaking to the ritual processes involved with death throughout season five.


When the ritual has begun and Dawn’s blood is being drained, Buffy realizes what she must do, how “death” is her “gift.” She will sacrifice herself to stop the ritual, rescue her sister, and save the world from great destruction. Buffy gracefully jumps off the tower, sacrificing her blood and body to the mystical portal. After Buffy dies, a series of shots show the grief of her friends while a voice-over indicates what Buffy said to her sister before she jumped: “Dawn, listen to me . . . I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles . . . I figured it out . . . and I’m okay . . . You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me” (“Gift”). In this moment of clarity, Buffy reconciles the pain of life and passes her wisdom on to her younger sister. Buffy’s death reflects Campbell’s view that “death . . . is understood as a fulfillment of our life’s direction and purpose” (Thou Art That 34). Whedon uses the mythological and ritualistic elements of death and sacrifice to show viewers ways of accepting the painful and unpredictable nature of life alongside the certainty of death. Like the Toradja’s “conception of death [it is] not as an end but . . . a metamorphosis that leads to life” (Grillo 11). After Buffy struggles with the loss of her mother, she embraces her own death and the unknown that lies ahead of her.


“Who someone or something is, then, is a matter of the kind of powers that one’s mahceua has. And while in the course of a person’s life she is given a great deal of merit that helps determine her nature, she also can determine to some degree her own merit through her actions and the rituals performed at appropriate times and places” (Read 152). Buffy has no choice about having Slayer powers. She is automatically elevated to the role of hero. However, in her continual choices to embrace that role, she demonstrates her own merit. We too can make these choices. It is inevitable to discuss the importance of the hero when discussing death. As Campbell indicated, “one part of the mythological motif of the hero’s journey is acquiescence. For instance, I am moving toward death, as we all are. That’s also yielding. And the hero is the one who knows when to surrender and what to surrender to. The main theme is to yield your position to the dynamic. And the dynamic of life is now this form eats that form. Yield” (Hero’s 12). Of course, we are not all to sacrifice ourselves for the greater good, but to consider the metaphor that Buffy offers us, which is akin to the Mexica sacrifice: “Sacrifice was a way of re-forming things in order to create an appropriate order again” (Read 153). Literal sacrifices are metaphors for the emotional sacrifices we all make in life to bring forth balance and harmony.


According to Campbell, “the fourth function of mythology is psychological. The myth must carry the individual through the stages of his life, from birth through maturity through senility to death. The mythology must do so in accord with the social order of his group, the cosmos as understood by his group, and the monstrous energy” (Campbell, Pathways 9). Buffy functions so powerfully as a mythology because it fulfills this function, demonstrating Buffy’s life as a Slayer and her death, specifically in modern America. Surely one of the greatest mysteries we cope with is facing death.


Finally, we should remember that “Death is a paradox – it can be understood as both a changeless state and transforming process, as a definitive end or harbinger of new beginnings and rebirth” (Grillo 20). Buffy demonstrates both aspects of death. Although Joyce loses her life, her death functions to transform Buffy. While Buffy herself then sacrifices her own life, she provides new beginnings for those she loves. The sixth season of Buffy, then, deals with another prominent issue – rebirth and resurrection. Buffy faces what Campbell refers to as “the rescue from without” when her friends resurrect her from the dead (Hero 170). Future projects will explore the significance of Buffy’s unwanted resurrection and the implications it has on the cosmology of Buffy and the minds of the viewers. That discussion will also include an analysis of the afterlife as presented by Whedon and its relationship to the various depictions of heaven.

Works Cited

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero’s Journey. Novato: New World, 1990.

— The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Novato: New World Library, 2008.

— Pathways to Bliss. Novato: New World Library, 2004.

— Thou Art That. Novato: New World Library, 2001.

Cooper, J.C. “Earth.” An Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols. London: Thames & Hudson, 1978.

Cooper, J.C. “Lion.” An Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Traditional Symbols. London: Thames & Hudson, 1978.

Eliade, Mircea. The Sacred and the Profane: The Nature of Religion. Florida: Harcourt, 1967.

Girard, Rene. “Violence and the Sacred: Sacrifice.” Readings in Ritual Studies. Ed. Ronald L. Grimes. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1996. 239-256.

Grillo, Laura S. “‘Rambu Solo’: the Toradja Cult of the Dead and Embodied Imagination.”

Read, Kay. “The Cosmic Meal,” Time and Sacrifice in the Aztec Cosmos. Bloomington: Indiana UP 1998. 123-137; 144-155.

Turner, Kay, and Pat Jasper. “Day of the Dead, the Tex-Mex Tradition.” Halloween and Other Festivals of Death and Life. Ed. Jack Santino. Knoxville: U of Tennesse P, 1994. 133-151.

Van Gennep, Arnold. The Rites of Passage. Chicago: The U of Chicago P, 1960.


Angel as the Modern Oedipus

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Grad School, Words for Wednesday, Writing

Welcome to my new weekly post, Words for Wednesday! Each Wednesday, I’m going to post a paper that I’ve written. Up first is one I wrote for the course “Greek and Roman I” way back in 2008. I examine how the TV series Angel gives us a modern version of Oedipus. Note, it was written for a reader who had not seen the series. Also of note, for any MLA buffs out there, this was written before the most recent MLA format changes. Enjoy!

Simply put, “Myths are stories . . . about things that matter a lot” (Downing Lecture 1).  These stories were first told orally.  By 5th century B.C., stories commonly appeared on stage as plays.  Now, in the 21st century, stories appear in a variety of forms including plays, films, books, and television.  Despite the changes across the world over the last thirty centuries, one thing remains the same: we love our stories.  In Ancient Greece, Oedipus was a well known name.  In Modern America, the same is true of Buffy and Angel.  Change the time, the location, and the tradition, but the human experience does not change.  Myth provides us with images to understand our time.  As Joseph Campbell asserts in several of his texts, myth needs to be modern and relevant.  Downing echoes this sentiment in “Another Oedipus”: “What makes a myth a myth is its power to continue to activate fresh mythology” (280).

Sophocles developed a powerful play in his retelling “Oedipus Rex.”  The audience was familiar with the story and could respond to the irony he provided.  At a time when drama was not serialized as it is now on television, it behooved playwrights to use the audience’s knowledge to enhance a resonating story.  As Downing indicates, “The dramatists used the inherited myths to reflect on perennial but newly pressing issues and to call for a deeper and more resilient relation to the community and to the gods, to fate, suffering, and death” (Downing, “Another Oedipus” 285).  Part of the power of television series today is that they are not just viewed once and dismissed.  They are re-viewed time and time again.  This can be as much of a social event as the plays of 5th Century.  “Buffy” and “Angel” fans have been known to have viewing parties and even sing-along’s –there was a musical “Buffy” episode. 

“Oedipus Rex” was a response to the times, reflecting the struggles that citizen’s faced during that time: loyalty to state rising above all other responsibilities.  Downing reflects on Nicole Loraux’s interpretation, indicating that “the tragedies’ emphasis on loss, grief, mortality, and the haunting presence of death, suggest to her [Loraux] that the spectators [of "Oedipus Rex"] discovered that more fundamental than their role as citizen was their participation in the race of mortals” (“Another Oedipus” 290).  Among the many functions fulfilled in Greek Tragedy, this particular play by Sophocles was so powerful at that time because it helped the Athenians to think about the struggles they were facing.

In America today, that reminder is still needed.  There are so many distractions in the business and monetary world that individuals sometimes forget to see the suffering of people that requires attention.  Sometimes people even forget to take care of themselves as they are concerned with climbing the corporate ladder, supporting a family, and keeping up with the latest technologies.  Our world is changing rapidly around us, but at the heart of it all we remain untouched – we are still humans facing the same struggles that the Athenians faced: balancing duty to family, state, and self.  While “Oedipus Rex” is still widely read and appreciated today, the culture had a call for a new and modern myth.

In 1997, writer and creator Joss Whedon successfully debuted “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” on the WB network.  While he had pitched the script for the 1992 theatrical release, he did not maintain creative control of the film and his story had not yet been told.  From 1997 until 2003, new episodes of “Buffy” aired; from 1999 until 2004, the spin-off “Angel” aired.  Together, these series present what is commonly known to Buffy scholars and fans as the “Buffyverse.”  Both shows remain in syndication and have yet to be off-air since their initial debut.  While the series may be considered a cult phenomenon, it has certainly captured the attention of many.  DVD sales, spin-off novels, and academic conferences such as “Slayage” are just some of the evidence that this show is not leaving the pop-culture consciousness for some time.

The shows gained popularity and maintained a solid fan base because of the world the writer’s carefully crafted.  The Buffyverse has a distinct mythology that it does not stray from or violate.  The two series maintain individual and integrated continuity and viewers are never asked to just accept new ideas or characters.  A fluid story is maintained in a universe that is every bit as real as the one we live in.  The power of the Buffyverse stems from the fact that, despite the presence of demons and magic, it is a clear representation of our modern world.  It takes place in present-day California and involves protagonists that face not only literal demons but the demons of modern life: the high school and college experience, relationship dynamics, adulthood responsibility, and parenthood accountability. 

While it is necessary to discuss the encompassing Buffyverse to get a complete look at the character of Angel, the main focus here is to look at “Angel” as the modern “Oedipus Rex.”  Just as the original viewers of “Oedipus Rex” were familiar with previous renditions of the story, “Angel” viewers are familiar with the history and back story provided on “Buffy.”  The important elements of Angel’s history as provided on “Buffy” are as follows: In 1753 the young man Liam is seduced by a vampire in a back alley.  This vampire, Darla, is at once both the mother and the lover to the new creature, Angelus.  This act of “birth” physically removes Liam’s soul, morality and mortality.  The first murderous act of Angelus is to kill Liam’s biological father. In 1893, Angelus is cursed by gypsies.  He is given back his soul; in other words, he is re-ensouled though still immortal.  Leaving his murderous ways behind, he now uses the name Angel.  However, his conscience is burdened with all the murderous memories of Angelus. As Angelus killed the father of Liam, Angel kills the mother of Angelus, Darla, in 1997. 

From this brief history, it is clear that Angel/Angelus is both a villain and a hero, a victim and a victimizer, much like Oedipus.  Downing explains that Oedipus “is morally innocent, he acted in ignorance, but his crime is objectively horrifying – and he accepts responsibility for it.  It is not an either/or – Oedipus is not just a victim of fate nor a free agent; he is both . . . The hero is the one who can affirm his fate and say ‘this is me’ in a way that includes an acceptance of the inescapable contingencies of his life” (“Another Oedipus” 285).  While there appears to be a clear cut line between Angel and Angelus, it is important to remember that when Buffy once explained to Willow, “A vampire’s personality has nothing to do with the person it was,” Angel begins to clarify with a heavy, “Well, actually . . . ” though a harsh look from Buffy hinders his explanation (“Dopplegangland”).  Just as Oedipus was unknowing when he killed his father and married his mother, Angel was not in control of the acts committed by Angelus.  Nevertheless, they are acts he was some part of and he must live with the consequences.

Angel (Liam) is the victim when Darla sires him in that dark alley, but Angelus rules as a terrifying victimizer as one of the most violent vampires for over a century.  After he is re-ensouled in the late 1800′s, it takes him nearly 100 years to adapt.  He moves from place to place living off the blood of vermin, lost in the horrors of violence he committed as Angelus.  Inspired when Buffy is called to be a Slayer, he finally steps into the role of hero.  By the time viewers meet Angel, he has accepted the “inescapable contingencies of his life”: as an immortal vampire with a soul, he fights to save the innocent from the horrors he knows to be real. 

When the “Angel” series begins, Angel has left Sunnydale behind (his home on “Buffy”) and moved to Los Angeles to “help the helpless,” eventually forming the paranormal-investigative team “Angel Investigations.”  In the third episode, “In the Dark,” Angel receives a gift from Buffy: a ring that makes vampires invincible.  However, at the end of the episode, Angel smashes the ring.  His new associate, Doyle, explains that ring was his opportunity for “redemption.”  With this ring, Angel cannot be killed and can step into the sunlight.  Doyle reminds Angel that the people “between 9 and 5″ could use his help as well.  Angel disagrees: “They have help.  The whole world is designed for them, so much that they have no idea what goes on around them after dark.  They don’t see the weak ones lost in the night, – or the things that prey on them.  And if I join them, maybe I’d stop seeing, too” (“In the Dark”). This is a strong demonstration of Angel’s commitment as a hero, and a reflection that he is continuing on his path of redemption, one of the key elements to this series.  Angel cannot just accept this easy opportunity to escape his accountability; like Oedipus, he still has crimes to pay for.  There is hope, though, that Angel will one day receive redemption.  At the end of the first season of “Angel,” a scroll is discovered that contains the Shanshu Prophecy.  This prophecy reveals that Angel, the vampire with a soul, will become human one day – “He has to survive the coming darkness, the apocalyptic battles, a few plagues, and . . . fiends that will be unleashed,” but after that he will have truly earned his redemption (“To Shanshu in LA”).  He will be free to live and die as a human. 

Until that time, Angel must continue to live with his past and deal with its reemergence.  Unlike Oedipus, Angel was completely aware of the implications of his actions as he slept with his new mother (Darla) and murdered his father.  In the form of Angelus, however, this incest and murder is par for the course.  Nevertheless, it is appalling to the now reformed Angel.  Downing explains, “Freud helped us realize that the play ["Oedipus Rex"] is about our deepest and most hidden sexual and aggressive impulses” (“Another Oedipus” 289).  One of the functions of “Oedipus Rex” is to work as a demonstration of the impulses we have and cannot always deny.  While Angel has a soul, he is still a vampire, and the desires of Angelus are something he must constantly battle – this is the demon inside, a metaphor many can relate to.  While most individuals are not be compelled to commit violent acts like Angelus, we do combat the ever-pressing id.  In any functional myth, the id will be demonstrated and fought against.  Angel’s id is aroused the most whenever Darla is around.

In 2000, on the second season of “Angel,” Darla is brought back from the dead – human and with her soul.  She is brought back by Wolfram and Hart, a company of lawyers that work for high-powered evil.  Throughout the series, Angel is in constant battle with Wolfram and Hart.  They know that Angel is destined to be an important player in the apocalypse and they want him on their side.  They bring Darla back in an attempt to bring Angel over.  Unfortunately, the resurrected Darla is dying of syphilis, as she was back in the 1700′s before she was turned into a vampire and given immortality.  Angel does everything – including risking his own life – to save her.  When they both make peace with the situation and accept her unavoidable death, Darla is forcefully taken from him and turned into a vampire by Drusilla, a vampire that Angel had sired in the 1800′s.  Drusilla and Darla form a wild pair and Angel feels responsible for the damage his “family” is doing to his city, Los Angeles.  Nevertheless, with or without souls, Angel and Darla are always drawn to one another. 

After five episodes of fighting with Darla and Drusilla, Angel finally gives into all of his impulses.  Amidst a violent fight, Angel succumbs to his id and has sex with Darla.  After this obscene event, Angel explains to Darla that he “gave [her] everything [he] had left” (“Epiphany”).  Darla thinks that this means he has lost his soul and that her beloved Angelus has returned to her.  However, he recognizes that this night with her was “perfect despair” (“Epiphany”).  He had to face the demon within to remember who he truly was – a hero.  Later in the episode, Angel saves a friend from suicide.  He reflects to her,

If there is no great glorious end to all this, if nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do. ‘Cause that’s all there is.  What we do, now, today.  I fought for so long.  For redemption, for a reward [but] all I want do is help.  I want to help because I don’t think people should suffer as they do.  Because, if there is no bigger meaning, then the smallest act of kindness is the greatest thing in the world. “Epiphany”

These words of hope are comforting, and elements such as these are part of what contribute to “Angel” functioning as a powerful, modern myth.  However, we must remember that “Angel” is also functioning as a tragedy.  Downing shares that, “[Greek] Tragedy reflected the anxieties not the confident verities of its audience, voiced the hope (not the assurance) of triumph of order over chaos”  (“Another Oedipus” 285) .  Though these moments of hope are experienced, dire consequences often await.

The union between Darla and Angel has unimaginable consequences:  Darla is impregnated. (For the purposes here, it will not be discussed why this mystical event occurred, though rest assured that Whedon maintained the integrity of the series’ mythology in this apparent impossibility).  The body of a vampire is not a life-giving vessel, which Angel and Darla become painfully aware of when she comes to term and cannot deliver.  While Darla is pregnant, she is filled with the presence of their son’s soul and she connects deeply with Angel. Ultimately, for the life of their son, Connor, Darla kills herself (thus allowing the boy to be born).  Shortly after Angel begins lovingly raising Connor, the infant is kidnapped into a hell dimension.  Though Connor returns to Angel only several weeks later, he has been raised in a hell dimension and returns as a young adult bent on avenging his father.  Now the Oedipal-like cycle of sex and violence continues.

Connor is in a constant battle with his father, mistakenly believing Angel to be a cruel vampire that murdered the man that raised Connor.  By the end of season three, Connor seeks his vengeance not in death, but in something even worse – he seals Angel in an air tight box and drops it into the depths of the ocean.  Since Angel is immortal, he will not die but weaken and slowly lose his mind.  Fortunately, a good friend of Angel’s rescues him in a matter of months.  As father and son have difficulty with their situation, Connor develops a close bond with Cordelia, his mother figure during his brief time as an infant in Los Angeles.  Cordelia is unknowingly possessed at the time, but Connor consciously chooses to sleep with his mother figure.  Since Cordelia is not Connor’s birth mother, he is not committing something quite as vile as Oedipus did, but the symbolism remains the same. 

As Downing explains, “[Jung] reinterprets sexual longing . . . as really meaning our longing for a return to the psychological source of our being” (“Another Oedipus” 293).  Connor never really knew a mother and suffered through a very disturbing upbringing; this connection with Cordelia functions as his “male initiation” (293).  Reflecting also on when Angel slept with Darla, both as Angelus and as Angel, we can see that he, like the wide-eyed Connor, is constantly searching for a connection to his source of being.  When Darla sires him, she is both his mother and his father.  Connecting to her is really the only thing he has to connect to.  When the ensouled Angel slept with Darla again, he had hoped, as he himself explains, that in saving her he could save himself.  When he cannot save her, he gives into her, meeting that “perfect despair.”  He is again trying to make peace with what he is – now a vampire with a soul.

While there is not really a way for Oedipus or Angel to truly resolve their murderous and incestuous ways, each character must move forward in some manner.  As Downing explains, the new idea of the hero presented in 5th Century Athens was of a character who understood himself to be deeply alone (Lecture 3).  Clearly, there is no comforting the sightless Oedipus who is now aware of the actions he committed.  There is also no comforting the tormented Angel.  Unlike Oedipus in “Oedipus Rex,” Angel does accept the help of others through his chosen-family members of “Angel Investigations;” nevertheless, he still solitarily faces unavoidable choice, another element of the tragic 5th century hero (Downing Lecture 3).  In this unavoidable choice, the hero sees the downside to both possibilities, but must make the choice despite the unknown outcome (Downing Lecture 3).

By the end of the fourth season of “Angel,” Connor spins completely out of control and is a threat to himself and others.  After many attempts to save his son, Angel recognizes there is nothing that he can do . . . until he gets an offer from Wolfram and Hart.  Angel climbs into the belly of the beast and agrees to work for the company he has previously fought against.  In exchange, Connor’s memories are erased and the young man has the opportunity to grow up safely with a “normal” family.  The choice was not easy and Angel makes it alone, knowing there will be repercussions, but compelled to save his son.  Angel is not the only one to make this choice.  Each member of “Angel Investigations” agrees to join “Wolfram and Hart” – but for each there will be a price.

Throughout the course of season five, all of the characters face immense difficulties as they struggle to continue fighting the good fight within the belly of the beast.  Angel ultimately works to earn a seat with The Circle of the Black Thorn, a group associated with the Senior Partners of Wolfram and Hart and working toward the apocalypse.  Angel makes another choice without the support of his cohorts.  Once Angel joined the Circle, there was one catch – before the Circle would accept him, they asked him to sign away the Shanshu Prophecy.  Angel does so without hesitation, giving up any chance of ever becoming human and receiving his hard-earned redemption.  Angel later explains to his team, “We are weak.  The powerful control everything except our will to choose . . . heroes don’t accept the world the way it is.  The Senior Partners may be eternal, but we can make their existence painful . . . We’re in a machine.  The Black Thorn runs it.  We can bring their gears to a grinding halt, even if it’s just for a moment” (“Power Play”). His plan is to kill every member of the Black Thorn, knowing that he and his team will probably not survive. 

Just as “Oedipus Rex” ends without assurance, so does “Angel.”  In the finale “Not Fade Away,” Angel’s plan is a success: they kill every single member of the Black Thorn.  However, Wolfram and Hart unleash hell on Los Angeles – literally.  Angel and his few living colleagues stand in an alley against an endless sight of demons and beasts, including a dragon.  Angel raises his sword and says, “Let’s go to work,” as the screen fades to black.  Whedon writes like a Greek dramatist to “use the myths to call to a deeper, more resilient and complex relationship to the community, the polis, and to the gods, fate, suffering, death” (Downing Lecture 3). 

The drama of the Greeks and effective drama in our current time work to help us express and face issues relevant to the time.  Oedipus and Angel are subject to being both the victim and the hero.  This duality speaks to the complexity of man.  The “aim [of tragedy] was to develop a tragic consciousness in the spectators, an awareness of simultaneously valid contradictory perspectives” (Downing, “Another Oedipus” 285).  Angel and Oedipus never truly reconcile their situations.  “Oedipus Rex” ends without the audience knowing what will come of Oedipus.  Although this is resolved in further plays, “Oedipus Rex” was originally created to be a standalone production.  The same is true of the ending of “Angel.”  The audience does not know what will come of Angel, though the outlook is bleak.  This is later resolved in the form of comic books.  Yet, like “Oedipus Rex,” the “Angel” series originally stood independently.  The creation of Sophocles’ later plays and Whedon’s comic “Angel: After the Fall” demonstrate the audiences desire for more.  When well told stories come to an end, viewers, readers, and audience members are not so quick to let them go.  When the myth resonates, there is a continual retelling or continuation of that story.  These stories never truly leave us – or, rather, we never leave them.  While Angel and Oedipus may be left standing alone against immeasurable odds, we never have to stand without them.  These myths, these stories about things that matter, give us something to look at to help us resolve our contemporary crises. 

 

Works Cited

Downing, Christine, “Another Oedipus,” Gleanings. New York: iUniverse, 2006, ch. 24.

— Class lecture 1. MS505: Greek and Roman Myth I. Pacifica Graduate Institute, Carpinteria.

15 Sept. 2008

— Class lecture 3. MS505: Greek and Roman Myth I. Pacifica Graduate Institute, Carpinteria.

17 Nov. 2008

“Doppleganglang.” Writ. Joss Whedon. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. WB. 23 Feb. 1999.

 ”Epiphany.” Writ. Tim Minear. Angel. WB. 27 Feb. 2001.

 ”In the Dark.” Writ. Douglas Petrie. Angel. WB. 19 Oct. 1999

 ”Power Play.” Writ. David Fury. Angel. WB. 12 May 2004.

“Not Fade Away.” Writ. Joss Whedon. Angel. WB. 19 May 2004.

“To Shanshu in L.A.” Writ. David Greenwalt. Angel. WB. 23 May 2000.

A Note on Whedon & Buddhism

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Mindfulness, Pop Culture

The Tricycle article “Practicing with Loss” (published four days ago on Tricycle) contained this poignant quote:

We are all going to suffer our losses. How we deal with these losses is what makes all the difference. For it is not what happens to us that determines our character, our experience, our karma, and our destiny, but how we relate to what happens.

I couldn’t help but think of the series two finale of Buffy (penned by Whedon himself) and Whistler’s powerful voice-over, which is well-known to fans:

Bottom line is even if you see ‘em coming, you’re not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what, are we helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come, can’t help that. It’s what you do afterward. That’s when you find out who you are.

Just thought it was a neat connection. Felt compelled to share it with my fellow Whedonites. It’s an important message, regardless of context.

Namaste.

Mythological Studies & Depth Psychology

Posted on by under Buffy, Grad School, Life, Mythology, Pop Culture, Psychology, Writing

As I come to the end of my second year of study at Pacifica, I have just completed a daunting task: Comprehensive Exams. For our school, these are essentially take home questions, consisting of three questions that each need a four-five page response. It doesn’t sound too challenging, but the question are large and creating succinct answers based on everything you’ve learned in the last two years is… daunting.

I am quite thrilled that I have now completed this venture. In geeky celebration, I decided to see how much I’ve written for the program during the fifteen courses I’ve completed to date. Including my comps, I’ve written a whopping 160 pages. That’s 52,674 words. So, of course, I pasted all these words into wordle to get a visualization of where I’ve concentrated my work. It’s quite clear how much I’ve written on Buffy, Angel, Joseph Campbell, and the shadow archetype. What a journey!!

Joss is Boss

Posted on by under Buffy, Buffyverse, Mythology, Pop Culture

I say again, it’s a good month to be a Whedonist!!

The instant extreme success of The Avengers couldn’t have been earned by any writer/director/creator more deserving.

Seeing the movie was exciting.

Seeing the movie a second time was exciting!

Seeing Joss’s name get splashed around the internet at an ever increasing rate is exciting.

Waking up to see Joss left a message on Whedonesque for us was amazing!!

It’s so amazing, that the number of articles about the importance of the letter are steadily rising.

Here’s a beautiful excerpt:

People have told me that this matters, that my life is about to change. I am sure that is true. And change is good — change is exciting. I think — not to jinx it — that I may finally be recognized at Comiccon . . . What doesn’t change is anything that matters. What doesn’t change is that I’ve had the smartest, most loyal, most passionate, most articulate group of — I’m not even gonna say fans. I’m going with “peeps” — that any cult oddity such as my bad self could have dreamt of. When almost no one was watching, when people probably should have STOPPED watching, I’ve had three constants: my family and friends, my collaborators (often the same), and y’all. A lot of stories have come out about my “dark years”, and how I’m “unrecognized” . . . So this is me, saying thank you. All of you. You’ve taken as much guff for loving my work as I have for over-writing it, and you deserve, in this our time of streaming into the main, to crow. To glow.

And we are glowing! With great pride. For the best damn writer alive in our time. Joss is a fan boy at heart, and he knows how to tell stories. He’s never sold out. And that’s brought him a lot of canceled television programs, but it’s also bought him a dedicated following. Joss has been weaving the current mythology of our popular culture for the last fifteen years. Though everyone may not have seen the series, Buffy is certainly a name recognized by most. And her impact has been deep and wide. What Joss has done for female characters and the empowerment of women – no, not just women, of people – is necessary, meaningful, and timely.

It’s amazing how many interviews, articles, and reviews you can read right now on both The Avengers and Joss Whedon. I must mention some of the best though (all second, of course, to Whedon’s post on Whedonesque).

Here’s possibly the best interview I’ve ever read with Whedon: ‘Avengers’ Director Joss Whedon on Trying to Be More Like Buffy. It’s lengthy and meaty and well-worth your time! And as someone who’s currently juggling many projects (though none on the level of what Joss does), I appreciated this insight/advice the most:

If you try to multitask in the classic sense of doing two things at once, what you end up doing is quasi-tasking. It’s like being with children. You have to give it your full attention for however much time you have, and then you have to give something else your full attention. The secret to multitasking is that it isn’t actually multitasking. It’s just extreme focus and organization.

If your time is more limited, here’s a short Q&A that gets right to the heart of Whedon. I’m going to spoil the final bit for you, and you won’t mind because it’s so damn beautiful all by itself.

Tell us a joke.
Your life has meaning.

Tell us a secret.
Your life has meaning.

Here’s an article I love that came out just before The Avengers release date and highlights the academia of the Whedonverse: Master of the Whedonverse. Speaking of which… five years ago when I was writing my Master’s Thesis on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, despite the growing academic literature, I had to argue why this was worthy of academic exploration. I dare say that now, as I’m expanding on that project as a book with McFarland, the why has become culturally understand. Are all movies and television programs deep and meaningful? Of course. But the one’s that are… they are transforming us on an individual and collective level. They are as powerful as myths. In fact, they’re the new myth. They reflect our time and they give us something to relate to. I firmly believe Joss was a significant figure in bringing this into being. He changed the face of serialized television. And, in the process, he changed our lives.

On a final note, here’s an interesting article on Death in Fantasy Fiction: Why It Makes Us Rage. (Minor spoilers for Avengers coming here… but I won’t give away anything you’re not already expecting… and I won’t name names) Sure, my husband muttered, “Damn you, Joss Whedon!” under his breath when a beloved character in The Avengers met his demise… but here’s what I love about Whedon. We (the Whedonists) know he’s going to kill off characters that matter to us. If they didn’t matter to us, their deaths wouldn’t matter. And he’s not doing it for shock value. In the worlds Whedon creates, the stakes are always high (Buffy lives on a Hellmouth; Angel battles Wolfram & Hart’s apocalypse; the Alliance is out for Mal Reynolds; Dr. Horrible built a DEATH ray; The Dollhouse is attacking the very rights of humanity; The Avengers are facing a demi-god). And how realistic would those high stakes seem and those victories really feel if everyone came out alive and unburdened? In fact, if it hadn’t been for the moving death in Avengers, would our team of super heroes even have become a team? I think Nick Fury made it pretty clear how much they needed that catalyst. We’re drawn to Whedon again and again because his stories are real. The stakes are real. The losses are real. And so are the messages, the characters, the meaningfulness, and the emotion.

I’m proud to be a Whedonist and I’m glad the whole world now gets to see now what he’s capable of.