![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
labingiWherein I defend Paul Darrow's writing skills.
Everybody knows that Paul Darrow wrote "A Terrible Novel," but I'll confess with some small embarrassment that his conception of the backstory for Avon, Anna, and Del influenced me quite a lot. Some of the particulars are very purple, but I like the basic conception that the three of them were acquainted since they were kids.
One of the things I find oddest about fandom's dominant response to Anna is the idea that she somehow seduced Avon into completely loving and trusting her over the course of several months or something of "staying close and letting him run." I mean... Avon? This is someone whose mantra--long before "Rumours"--is don't trust/believe in anything.
One might argue that Avon can be quick to attach, as evidenced by his fast attachment to Blake, and I grant he forms a fast attachment to Blake. But it's not one he acknowledges--right up to the very end, it's not. He bonds with Blake in spite of himself, but he bonds with Anna in a "yes, I'm afraid I do trust you, and I'm willing to risk a fairly comfortable life as an Alpha in the Federation to run away with you" way. This a level of emotional vulnerability that we never see openly in Avon, except perhaps in the very last scene of "Blake." To suggest that this is done to him on the strength of a few months or even a year or two of clever seduction is... giving Anna too much credit. She can't possibly be that much of a superperson, certainly not in the rather obviously seductive performance we see in "Rumours."
I can't find any plausible explanation for Avon's trust in her besides his having known her a long time, maybe not since age four, but pretty long. Further evidence: he knows her real name (it's the name her brother uses, and there's no evidence he's under a pseudonym), and he's also on first-name terms with her brother (or was at one point; he calls him "Del"), which in the Federation is a sign of a fairly intimate social relationship. (Recapitulating some stuff from yesterday's essay here, but those are my thoughts for now.)
Paul Darrow got that part right.
Everybody knows that Paul Darrow wrote "A Terrible Novel," but I'll confess with some small embarrassment that his conception of the backstory for Avon, Anna, and Del influenced me quite a lot. Some of the particulars are very purple, but I like the basic conception that the three of them were acquainted since they were kids.
One of the things I find oddest about fandom's dominant response to Anna is the idea that she somehow seduced Avon into completely loving and trusting her over the course of several months or something of "staying close and letting him run." I mean... Avon? This is someone whose mantra--long before "Rumours"--is don't trust/believe in anything.
One might argue that Avon can be quick to attach, as evidenced by his fast attachment to Blake, and I grant he forms a fast attachment to Blake. But it's not one he acknowledges--right up to the very end, it's not. He bonds with Blake in spite of himself, but he bonds with Anna in a "yes, I'm afraid I do trust you, and I'm willing to risk a fairly comfortable life as an Alpha in the Federation to run away with you" way. This a level of emotional vulnerability that we never see openly in Avon, except perhaps in the very last scene of "Blake." To suggest that this is done to him on the strength of a few months or even a year or two of clever seduction is... giving Anna too much credit. She can't possibly be that much of a superperson, certainly not in the rather obviously seductive performance we see in "Rumours."
I can't find any plausible explanation for Avon's trust in her besides his having known her a long time, maybe not since age four, but pretty long. Further evidence: he knows her real name (it's the name her brother uses, and there's no evidence he's under a pseudonym), and he's also on first-name terms with her brother (or was at one point; he calls him "Del"), which in the Federation is a sign of a fairly intimate social relationship. (Recapitulating some stuff from yesterday's essay here, but those are my thoughts for now.)
Paul Darrow got that part right.
