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jnb71976 has written an extraordinary post. It's a rant about s8 (and she is actually being far more generous to its strengths that I am), but at its heart she talks about how s8 has destroyed Angel. I've been toying with the idea of writing an Angel-essay, but I won't have to now, because she wrote this. (Btw, the icon is from a drawing I once made for Anna, and that she then made into an icon for me. Suddenly realised that it captured *my* Angel perfectly.)This is my Angel by
jnb71976:Joss took Angel out of Buffy’s world years ago. Angel loved and grew and succeeded and failed without her influence. He took steps forward, steps back. He created a family, a business, a home. He helped the helpless. He fell down and failed. He got up and tried again. He loved, he defended, he fought. He had a son. He had brothers. He had a sister and a best friend who he fell in love with and who gave him his mission. Was his mission incarnate. He understood, deep down (pun intended) that nothing he did mattered and that all that mattered was what he did. That kindness is the greatest virtue. That loyalty and familial love are to be prized above all things. That the burning pain inside him was not meant to be quelled, but stoked to purpose. Honed. He became someone Buffy would hardly recognize, let alone understand. He was not someone whose countenance Buffy should “bask” in. He was not innocence or light. He was not an ideal to aspire to. He was not the perfect anything. Not perfect happiness. Not perfect boyfriend. Not perfect heart. Not a paragon of true love or morality. He was the dark avenger – he was the soul-saver. He was Connor’s father, first and foremost, to the detriment of everything else. He was Cordelia’s champion. He was brother to Wesley, Gunn, Fred, Lorne, and even Spike.
He was the shadowed figure in the alley. He was the judge and the executioner. He was a terrible dancer and a great big dufus. He loved hockey and ballet and ice cream. He cut himself off from love and had to drag himself back, kicking and grunting. More than once. When he smiled, the room lit up. He was obsessive-compulsive with cleaning and organizing his weapons. When people fell, he caught them. He sang badly to his baby boy and crowds of demons. He wore stylish suits and lamented his puffed-up hair. He was death, and it suited him. He was the dark, and he fought against the dark.
~~~
My favourite vid about Angel (the show) is
yhlee's Have You heard. (You can't win, you can't break even, you can't get out of the game--but you can fight.) Watch it.
