Women Setting Boundaries in True Blood S4 Finale

WOW. I mean, really, WOW. There's so much that can be said about the unreal True Blood S4 finale that aired this past Sunday, "And When I Die".

Multiple viewings of it may in fact be truly hazardous to your health!

Case in point: I crashed at Rebecca's house on Tuesday night, and we decided to re-watch the episode together. Just as the opening credits began, our brother pulled into the driveway and we shot each other looks acknowledging the fact that as soon as he came in the door and realized we were watching it AGAIN, he might just kill us!

You see, Johnny's a fan of the show too, but for him watching each episode once is enough. And when he comes in from work, he likes to relax in front of the tube and decompress. So as the key turned in the door we braced ourselves and when we heard him in the hallway, we both grimaced and Rebecca almost timidly called out, "hey man" to test his mood. 

Luckily for us, his shift had been good and he was feeling benevolent. Striding up the stairs, he caught the strains of Bad Things rising and joked, "third time's the charm, huh?" before briefly taking inventory of the fridge and descending back down the stairs to his room.

Whew, close call. We were now free to watch "And When I Die" yet again, and although each of us had already seen it at least once (we viewed the finale together late Sunday night and Rebecca had re-watched the next day and taken notes), we were both still feeling the effects of the fangover and attempting the process the show's dizzying chain of events. 

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, so much happened during the finale that we could discuss here at the PPT. But since the Web has been abuzz for several days with recaps, reflections, and questions concerning the central action, I'd like to address a subtly nuanced theme of female empowerment nestled within the episode's dizzing action.  

Easy to overlook in light of the general craziness of the S4 finale, this theme is made evident in the pattern of several female characters drawing boundaries for themselves in their relationships that emerged during the course of the show, particularly in relation to Sookie, Jessica, Luna & Holly.

Rebecca and I started to flesh out our ideas on this topic on Tuesday night.

When the episode ended, we joked a little about how I had, in a moment of denial that the season had actually come to its conclusion on Sunday night, told her "no, we've got to see the coming attractions" when she lifted the remote to switch the station. Rebecca had astutely pointed out on Sunday that there would be no trailers for next week and that I'd have to face the fact that a sobering nine months of True Blood withdrawal stretched out like a barren wasteland before us.

Maybe a little over-dramatic, but true nonetheless.

So we laughed a little about that again, and Rebecca quickly turned our attention to an article she had read online that pointed out how, in her two-way break up with Eric and Bill, Sookie has actually chosen herself.

Although leaving without either of them in her life caused she and both her lovers great heartache, Sookie realized - perhaps due in part to the poignant words of her dearly departed Gran's spirit - that being alone is nothing to be afraid of.

And that maybe the best thing for her to do instead of trying to choose between Bill and Eric was to take some time to discover and get to know herself, outside of a relationship. Although shocked and deeply hurt, both vampires respected Sookie's wishes enough (at least for now) to let her go.

Similarly, during her sexy Halloween night tryst with Jason, Jessica verbalized her own sense that she is just barely getting to know herself.

Jessica is Rebecca's favorite female character for the reason that she feels the baby vamp displays the most real, believable [human] emotion. Sorry Sookie - Rebecca's words, not mine ;-) but I don't disagree.

Despite their strong mutual attraction and genuine caring towards one another, Jessica was brave and authentic enough to draw a mid-coitus line in the sand, telling Jason that she did not want to be his girlfriend. It's not that she doesn't want him; she's simply not ready to commit to him yet because she recognizes her inexperience in relationships and she doesn't want to hurt Jason the way Hoyt ended up hurt when they broke up.

In this scene, Jessica asserted herself as a sexual woman and vampire who is beginning to know what she wants and needs and isn't afraid to articulate that to the man in her life. And for his part, Jason was understanding and accepting of Jessica's reticence to jump into a committed relationship with him or to be intimate enough with him to drink his blood; as Jessica said, at least not yet.

Luna, too, put the breaks on a close encounter that could have heated up into quite the romantic night for she and Sam.

Not because she's not ready to stay the night with Sam or for them to be an official item (although that may well the be the case), but because she felt her baby girl Emma may not be. Luna and Sam both displayed the emotional maturity required to take their budding relationship slow; let's hope the snarling wolf that confronted Sam just as the van carrying Luna and Emma home drove up the Merlotte's driveway towards the parish road and out of view doesn't put the permanent brakes on this promising couple!

Last but not least, we've got fairy-costumed Holly, who, despite (or maybe because of) her mental and physical exhaustion brought on by the drama of the night had the gumption to tell it like it is to a persistent, Halloween bouquet-toting Andy Bellefleur.

Here's the dialogue courtesy of Television Without Pity: 

Andy: "Sorry about the last time, when I took your flowers."
Holly: "That's okay, you were nervous."
Andy: "No, I was a drug addict. V. thought I needed it to do the job, and to talk pretty ladies like you... So I didn't feel like a loser all the time. It worked for a while, then it didn't."
Holly, wearily: "Okay look, honey. You're really sweet and everything, but this is all just too much for me right now."
Andy: "It's no problem. Lot of baggage, I get it. I just wanted to say that I'm sober and I'm lonely. And I can be good to someone if they let me. 'Night."

After taking in and weighing what he had to say, Holly asked Sheriff Andy for a much-needed hug, which I think may have been balm for both their souls. I look forward to seeing what will come next for these two, and if the kind of "rigorous honesty" the tragically doomed Debbie Pelt had talked about having with Alcide might prevail for both of them; given their respective pasts (Holly as a survivor of sexual assault and Andy as a recovering addict) should they become involved.

Now, the above is not to suggest that self-actualization and being in relationship are mutually exclusive. In fact, as the introduction to the section on self-in-relation in the book Weaving the Visions: New Patterns in Feminist Spirituality asserts, the idea of self as relational is prominent in feminist thinking.

The concept of the relational self has not caught on in the traditions of dominant Euro-Western philosophy and theology in which Descartes's' vision of the self as essentially rational, disembodied, and solitary holds sway. From this perspective, it is easy to see how relationships could be seen as detrimental to the growth and development of the self - especially for women - whose stereotyped roles as nurturers and caregivers of others threaten to swallow us alive.

Another vision of the self suggests that we are by nature embodied, passionate, relational, and communal. Many feminist adhering to this viewpoint stress that identity is found in community. Black womanist theologian Delores S. Williams coined the term "relational interdependence" to name Black women's struggles for freedom from racist and sexist stereotypes within the context of relationships, family, and community. In this view, women's independence is relational.

There is no you without me; no me without you. The self is forged in relationship.

Even so, drawing healthy boundaries for the relationships that structure our lives and bind us to others is necessary, and it's refreshing to see the women of True Blood taking these steps - and their men responding in kind!

Yours in TB withdrawal...

~ Rachel

Character Spotlight: Hoyt Fortenberry - Hall of Shame

Hoyt Fortenberry, you have been charged with numerous counts of verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse. How do you plead?........

     It is with a heavy and utterly broken heart that I place Hoyt Fortenberry in this installation of our True Blood character Hall of Shame. We have created this space for those characters who at one time garnered nothing but respect and admiration but through a series of uncharacteristic behaviors have fallen from our good graces. We here at the PPT believe in the redemptive qualities of the human (or not so human at times) spirit; and reserve the right to remove any character who can rise above and move beyond their previous and or current offenses from these Halls. That being said let's take a closer look at what landed Hoyt here in the first place.

     How could you do this to us, Bubba? How could a man once so gentle, loving and kind turn into this angry, hate filled, abusive person that we saw last week? You were the only person in Merlottes with a kind thought for Dawn after her murder in the first season. You stood up to your mother calling her out for all her  racist beliefs (secret or otherwise). You have been a good and loyal friend to Jason, even when he referred to Rene-the murderous, misogynist, psychopath as his best friend (I know how much that must have hurt!). You met and fell in love with a beautiful, strong, smart and caring women who just happens to be a vampire.  Throughout all the discord you were our rock, a constant reminder of how good people can actually be. You gave all the bad boys of the world something to think about, proving that the nice guy COULD get the girl. These and many other selfless acts of blind love, and dedication to your moral compass are what made us all (Jessica included) fall in love with you.

****************************

     At the beginning of this season we saw a side of Hoyt we thought we'd never see. He has been argumentative, moody, insensitive, emotionally and verbally abusive towards Jessica; cutting her down to the quick with his words. He has violently lashed out, punching walls, throwing lamps and God knows what else around the house, and even though these actions can't physically hurt Jessica they can leave a very visible scar emotionally and psychologically. These abuses rank among the top offensives in most cases of domestic violence! He has made several unsubstantiated claims of Jessica's infidelity allowing his own self-consciousness to bubble up and pollute their relationship. This unhealthy pattern of behavior lead us to this scene as it played out last Sunday night. Re-watch this clip taken from True Blood season 4 episode 8: Spellbound for the last straw that landed Hoyt into our Hall of Shame.

 


      Couples fight all the time, but it is the way Hoyt fights that upsets me so much. He knows that he is not a physical match so he attacks Jessica verbally and emotionally. He tears into her, accusing her of sleeping with another man. Hoyt then goes on to commit what I consider to be a cardinal sin....he calls Jessica a bitch. While many women feel as though they have "taken back" the sting of being called a bitch, softening the blow by making the word theirs, I still find this word offensive and hurtful. When we think of the archetypal "bitch" what do we see? Does she come anywhere close to resembling Jessica or her actions in any way, shape, or form? I think not, which is precisely why the use of this word is so offensive. How can you say this to someone you love? "You don't deserve me" he yells "and I sure as hell don't deserve you". He goes on to list all the reasons he deserves someone better than Jessica. He attacks her nature both feminine and vampiric. "I deserve someone who's not gonna be a fuckin virgin for all eternity." Women have been simultaneously revered and shamed for their virginity; we are expected to be pure and virtuous yet taught to feel unwanted or inadequate if still a virgin. "I deserve someone I can have a normal life with, with babies....and daylight!" These are all things Hoyt was well aware of while falling for Jessica, things she cannot be held accountable for. Note her reaction as she hears these words. It's as if his words are literally wounding her...as Rachel pointed out, stabbing her like a knife in the chest. As if this weren't bad enough he lands his final blow by exclaiming he deserves someone who's "not fuckin dead" then with a look of disgust on his face revokes Jessica's invitation to their own home. When Hoyt slammed the door on Jessica, leaving her demoralized and sobbing on the front porch, did he also slam the door on any hope that this relationship can be mended? I, for one eagerly await the answer to this and would love to see if Hoyt has it in him to redeem his character's good name. Still a few hours until our next hit, just enough time to see what everyone else is thinking....Thoughts?? ~ Rebecca

As much as I love it, every bad thing that has ever happened to me is because of sex

Jason Stackhouse's relationship to sex is complicated and conflicted, to say the least.

And after narrowly escaping his breeding mill ordeal at Hot Shot, he knows it.

Flashback to Season 1. Do you remember the Cold Ground scene when, after Gran's death, Jason tried to lose himself in an empty, hollow, loveless tryst with a blond woman - a virtual stranger he couldn't remember the name of - who rode him reverse cowgirl-style? His bid to mindlessly fall back on predictable Stackhouse sexcapading as a means of escape backfired terribly. The two of them never made eye contact; while she moaned, "I love you", Jason softly cried.

His rape at Hot Shot felt to me like an extreme, twisted, alternate universe redux of that scene; his facial grimaces and sounds as he was repeatedly violated in the breeding shed reminded me very much of that scene.

While it’s true that he’s had lots of fun romps (with lots of different women) in the sack, Jason’s also had his share of sexual experiences that were exploitative and devoid of real emotion; where no true human connection or bonding took place – as in the two instances above.

And it seems to be going from bad to worse.

It's a good thing Hoyt and Jessica found him lying battered and bruised on the side of a deserted rural back road; the baby vamp's blood was his salvation. Having been miraculously healed by Jessica's blood, a restored-to health-Jason told his best friend over breakfast at Merlotte's:

As much as I love it, every bad thing that has ever happened to me is because of sex, (counting on his fingers) jealous boyfriends, becoming a drug addict, being accused of murder… Maybe God’s punishing me for having too much sex. He’s like "Jason Stackhouse you have fucked too many hot women, now let’s see how you like it."

*Transcription credit to Thought Catalog.

And now, part of Jason seems to think that maybe he's been the victim of reverse objectification, his studly past having finally caught up to him and put him in God's punishing crosshairs. 

In her online piece On Rape in True Blood Kat George addresses this concern:

Firstly, this insinuates that sexual "sins" are tantamount to punishment by rape. Secondly, the delivery of these lines is both humorous and cutesy on Jason’s part. Thirdly, since when was it ever OK to deserve rape (and how would we feel listening to a woman declaring that a rape was her just desserts)?

Good points, all.

But let’s remember, as Kirsty Walker (2010) writes in her essay "True Stud: Jason Stackhouse in Search of Masculinity", Jason is often the comic relief on the show. His light, funny tone with Hoyt is perhaps in keeping with this role and persona. Moreover, his use of a comical “God voice” - Jason Stackhouse you have fucked too many hot women, now let’s see how you like it - may very well be a defense mechanism. He’s been traumatized, and he knows it, but he's got to maintain some semblance of control - humor may be Jason's way of doing that, as it is for many people.

Ms. George takes the position that True Blood has trivialized the male experience of rape. While I agree that it is often underplayed in our society (as I wrote in my last post on Jason & Hot Shot) I don't think the show has treated this topic lightly or brushed it under the table.

In fact, I think it's brought new dimension to the mainstream discourse around sexual assault, particularly in light of the FBI’s 80-year-old, outdated definition of rape: "the carnal knowledge of a female forcibly and against her will." Each year the FBI omits hundreds of thousands of rapes from its Uniform Crime Report (UCR) based on this limited definition.

The FBI’s flawed definition of rape excludes any form of sexual assault that falls outside of the narrowest understanding of heterosexual sex, including the rape of men and boys as well as transgender people.

The FBI's stance on what rape is and isn't is evidence for the idea that in our culture, it is often questioned whether a red-blooded, virile guy like Jason can even be raped. Men are supposed to be into sex under any circumstance; expected to enjoy it every which way, with as many partners as possible. Under this paradigm, most will allow that maybe boys or weaklings can be sexually abused, manipulated, or dominated, but surely not young, strong ex-jocks who are seen as being in control, and insatiable in their hunger for sex.

Jason told Hoyt his experience was horrible; some might argue that a stud like him probably wouldn't (or maybe the right word here is shouldn't) have thought being forced to have sex with dozens of women was so awful if they had been hot women, and that he only protested because the women forced into the breeding line didn’t measure up to his standards of feminine beauty or sexiness.

But this thesis falls flat when one considers that the first woman to violate Jason had been the object of his desire, Crystal Norris, whose (in his words) "cute butt" he had chased all the way to Hot Shot.

He didn't want it, not even with her. Men can be raped, after all. Even by hot women.

I found out about the FBI's definition of rape from an action alert from  Change.org. You can sign their petition to tell the FBI to update their definition to include all forms of rape, by doing so you can help ensure that the resources law enforcement receives to aid survivors and apprehend perpetrators is based on real crime figures instead of dramatically underestimated statistics.

We've been trained to see Jason Stackhouse as a Louisiana Lothario, a "horn dog" who lets his penis guide him through life. Yet as Walker (2010) points out, while in his very first Strange Love scene Jason is depicted as a sexual creature, he is also shown to be perhaps not quite as experienced as he would have folks believe – and as his reputation would suggest (he was easily shocked by unconventional sexual behavior, i.e. the bite marks on Maudette's inner thigh). 

When it comes down to it, Jason is a man in search of his own masculinity in a world that no longer feels quite so stable or knowable; a world that has been upended by the appearance of vampires on the scene. Even for a guy like Jason, having been brought up in a patriarchal, heteronormative society where those in positions of power were for the most part other white males, navigating through a culture in flux is no easy task. (Walker, 2010). 

And up until now, he’s attempted to define himself through sex and violence (his Light of Day Institute adventure); both failed ideologies by which Jason could become self-actualized, according to Walker. As she writes, by the end of Season 1 he had come to experience sex as a bonding, as opposed to purely physically gratifying, experience. And he’s still learning and growing.

About his character, Ryan Kwanten has said, “it was important for Jason to have a sense of vulnerability and for the audience to be able to sympathize with him, and not to see him as…a piece of meat or just a dumb redneck, that there is really some soul and some hurt deep inside” (Walker, 2010, p. 122). 

The hurt in him has been exacerbated by his now conflicted relationship to sex, and his victim/survivor status.

So, despite the humorous tone Jason used to make some light of his dreadful experience with Hoyt and the racy distraction of his dream-sequence encounter with his buddy's girlfriend vampire Jessica, I am certain that his Hot Shot ordeal with have a profound and lasting impact on his continuing personal development. I am looking forward to seeing how this shakes out for him.

I just hope that since Jason now sees sex as the root cause of his troubles that he doesn't take what some might view as the next logical step and assign to women the wholesale label of temptress, she who leads man (i.e. him) down the garden path to ruin; the devil's door. 

Woman, The Devil’s Door
12^th C. CE, France

Jason did say, “As much as I love it, every bad thing that has ever happened to me is because of sex”, and that worries me a little.  Could Crystal's betrayal set him on the course of viewing all women as deceivers, as Eve's daughters, as portals to the corruption of men?  

“Do you not realise, Eve that it is you?

The curse of God pronounced on your sex weighs still on the world. Guilty you must bear its hardships. You are the devil’s gateway, you desecrated the fatal tree, you first betrayed the Law of God, you softened up with your cajoling words the man against whom the devil could not prevail by force. The image of God, Adam, you broke him as if he were a plaything. You deserved death, and it was the son of God who had to die!”
                                                                                                              ~ Tertullian

I don’t think it will. Despite his puffed-up bravado when it comes to hooking up, I think Jason genuinely likes women - women in general, and the ones in his life.

And as Wayne Koestenbaum,  author of Humiliation, remarked in his 8/1/11 NPR, humiliating experiences, if you survive them, are capable of being reinterpreted. When most of your recognizable personality or sense of self worth is decimated and you wake up from that experience still alive - as Jason has - a kernel or residue of the self is left and gold can be spun from this straw.

Now, the self-depreciating Jason may never let on that he's been rocked to the core; he may well continue to bemoan the horrors of Hot Shot and joke about it in the next breath as he has with Hoyt. This is the guy who, last season, told Hoyt he never thought he was smart enough to be depressed, after all. But he is smart enough, sensitive and emotional enough - and human enough - to have been deeply impacted by his rape experience. And he has surely come through what Koestenbaum calls a "kiln of shame and suffering" which can lead to transfiguration.

Koestenbaum allows that not everyone can spin the experience in this way, but I think Jason can. And I think he can do it without vilifying all women in the process. Hopefully, although his rape was in no way his fault, he will also grow from this experience and learn to make better choices, since, as he admitted to Sookie in I Wish I Was the Moon, he's not always so good at controlling his impulses.

And I, for one, am pulling for him!

~ Rachel

Why wouldn't Hoyt like Jessica's vlog?

As you can see from our response to Season 4 thus far, we're pretty interested in the story arc following Hoyt & Jessica's relationship, or - as we like to say using a play on Alan Ball's words (AB has said that one of the themes he wants to explore through the show is the "terrors of intimacy") - the "terrors of domesticity".

Jessica Hamby's vlog Babyvamp Jessica (not a typo, short for "video blog") offers a great extension of this True Blood subplot; it brings added emotional tone and tenor to its characters, twists, and turns.

Her first two posts of 2011 were put up three days before the Season 4 premiere episode "She's Not There" aired, likely as a means of adding to the media buzz while, at the same time, feeding the appetites of Truebies hungry for anything True Blood.

Aside from being a marvelous marketing ploy, Jessica's June 23rd posts open a new window on her relationship with Hoyt.

Here's the first one; Jessica's hiding out in the backyard to tape the vlog from a disapproving Hoyt...


Jessica's Blog: Blowin' Smoke

...and the second; he's found that she's still vlogging by rustling through her private things.

Jessica's Blog: Snoopin' Around

Here's some of the serious questions these posts have raised for me about the dynamics of Jessica & Hoyt's relationship:

• Why doesn't Hoyt like her vlog? Is it because he's a quiet, private person who fears such a public platform will lead to an invasion of their privacy? Has he become controlling? Maybe he'd like Jessica to himself, instead of having to share her with the anonymous Internet "friends" she discloses personal things to in each post? Has he communicated clearly with her as to why he is uneasy with it, can they strike a mutual understanding that will work for both of them?
• Must Jessica hide any action of hers she thinks Hoyt won't like or disagree with?
• How can they both ride the razor's edge of maintaining their individual identity while being part of a relationship - not let the "me" be subsumed by the "we"? Can they learn to allow each other the space they need, or will one smother the other? Can they respect each other's privacy/choices within the context of their relationship?     
• What are the consequences of Jessica's continuing to do something she told Hoyt she would stop - and his finding out about it via snooping? Will this whittle the foundation of trust a relationship should be built upon further? Will they have an open and honest discussion or will this drive her further underground with her vlogging? Give rise to his further snooping?
• Should Hoyt have veto power over Jessica's activities and pursuits? What is the role of compromise in healthy relationships? If he can legitimately make the case that her vlog is negatively impact him and/or their relationship does she have a responsibility to her partner to be considerate of his feelings and stop the behavior that is upsetting to him?
• What role in her life is Jessica's vlog playing; what needs is it fulfilling? If it is an important outlet for her, should she have to hide it/give it up? Should Jessica and Hoyt - who are both somewhat isolated in their relationship, without family support or many close friends - be exploring ways to build up their supportive circle together?

What do you think? Has anything similar ever happened in your relationship? How do you negotiate the terrors of intimacy; of domesticity? I'm curious, please let me know in the comments section below!

~ Rachel

"I'll trade you the red one for the blonde one"...Russell Edgington shows his true misogynist colors

In the mood for a little vintage True Blood? We're going deep, deep down into the wine cellar for this one, dear friends...all the way back to Season 3 ;-)


Remember the Episode 8 showdown between Russell and Bill in front of Sookie's house? Here's a quick recap.


Bill and Jessica had gone over to defend Sookie from Debbie and her werewolves. It was looking pretty good - vamps: 1, weres: 0 - when, before Bill could stop her, Jessica chased a fleeing wolf out the door and onto the front lawn where the King of Mississippi was waiting. Of course, he couldn't enter a human's residence; instead, he waited in stealth mode for an opportunity such as the one that had presented itself when Jessica ran straight into his evil clutches.


Bill - who was on the way up the stairs to give aid to Sookie - wavered for a moment before stepping out onto the porch in defense of his progeny. Challenging Russell, Bill asked the king if he was a coward or just plain lazy; hiding behind werewolves and the struggling baby vamp he was about to  sink his fangs into. "How about you and I settle this amongst men", Bill growled.


This next part is rich. Russell - in almost the same breath as he derided Bill for his sexism ("How very sexist of you, Bill. When it comes to killing, I've always been an equal opportunist.") - suggested, "I'll trade you the red one for the blond one". S3E8 Night On The Sun


Smacks of some of the essentialist concepts laid out in my post You Smell Like Dinner, i.e. women are not real subjects, complex and distinct but “infinitely substitutable beings”; objects branded with the “mark of the plural” (Rivera, 2003, p. 145 & 147), huh?


Me thinks King Russell hath shown his true [misogynist] colors!


And let's not forget some of his other most revealing gems, several of which were uttered in the Titanic-esque, patriarchal king-of-the-world plantation manor setting of 9 Crimes (S3E4) - complete with blood brandy and cigars...

...like the Rudyard Kipling quote he worked into his conversation with Bill; "A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke." 

Or this lovely sentiment - apparently all his own in the sense that it wasn't lifted from a late 19th & early 20th century literary figure who celebrated British imperialism - although likely not foreign to the worldviews of many other men; "Tug on her purse strings, and you'll find a lady's heart".

It seems to me that these patronizing, dismissive attitudes would have been right at home in the dark wood paneled and opulently furnished retreats of Gilded Age wealthy men. Places where they could bathe in their power and the arrogance of their lording over their women, children, and servants shone through their masks of etiquette like the sun through clouds. Havens where their positions of authority both in the home and in the world of business were reinforced; their sexism [and other "isms"] likely met with a wink and a smile.

It is this type of Edwardian gentleman's parlour atmosphere that Russell seems to have tried to recreate, driven perhaps by his snobbish desperation to project an air of both affluent civility and unquestioned authoritarian power.             

Has the [white] male ruling class not changed that much since the time of first class crossings on the White Star Line? It seems such elitist fantasies have not gone down with the ship. 

Thoughts? We'd love to hear them.

~ Rachel

References

Rivera, R. Z. (2003). New York Ricans from the Hip Hop Zone. New York: Palgrave

"You Smell Like Dinner"

Your blood tastes like freedom, Sookie; like sunshine in a pretty blond bottle.
                                                                            ~Eric Northman

As I sit here nursing a ginger ale on the rocks, I wonder if maybe it isn't high time for Sookie to start wearing a different eu de toilette. I mean, after all, Eric isn't the only one who has "complimented" her on her scent, in a more-menacing-than-admiring kind of way. You haven't forgotten Liam's "Man, she smells fuckin' sweet!" (S1E3 Mine), have you? I doubt Sookie has, either.

Thing is, there's no lotion, potion, body splash, perfume, or other such fragrance-emitting product that's responsible for the way Sookie smells.

In Season 3 Sookie began to struggle with her identity and self-worth after discovering that it's her blood - and its scent and taste; the delicate bouquet (in S4E3 If You Love Me, Why Am I Dyin'? Eric sniffs the air, catching her perfume which he can only describe as being "Like wheat, honey and sunlight") and exquisite flavor of it that has drawn Bill, and perhaps others as well, to her. She starts to think that it's not her - not who she is, but how she tastes; how her blood can service others - that matters. She's just the [pretty] packaging. 

And everyone, meaning every supe, has noticed. Her special palate, that is - although perhaps one might be sensitive to her growing sense of self-doubt, too.

Lorena may have hated Sookie, but she sure didn't mind her taste: "No wonder Bill was drawn to you. You're delicious.” (S3E7 Hitting the Ground).

While Bill insisted to Sookie, "it is not your blood I love. I love you. Your heart, your mind, your soul... you have brought light back into my life", he did admit that hers was, "the most delicious blood I've ever tasted" (S3E10 I Smell A Rat).

Last season, upon meeting Sookie - decked out in a lacy white top and cute denim mini; looking as much the fish out of water at Lou Pines as anyone likely could - Alcide's werewolf bouncer buddy eyed her up and down and quipped, "you look like dinner". In the next scene, if you recall, she was nearly sexually assaulted.

Even good 'ol Sam's thoughts echoed this "you smell good enough to eat" theme when Sookie listened in on him during their G-rated Season 1 canoodle in his office. Is that really any wonder, though, since his go-to shift is a collie, and we all know that man's best friend's nose is a mighty powerful organ! Even still, knowing that her smell is probably a big part of what caused her sexy boss to pine over her for so long has got to be quite a blow for Sookie. 

And the list goes on. The cavalcade of vamps, weres, and shifters itching to get a taste of Sookie seems virtually never ending.

We may well be onto something here, as if the episode's title alone wasn't enough of a hint. In her essay, "The Female Body in Margaret Atwood's The Edible Woman and Lady Oracle" Sofia Sanchez-Grant points out society's view that the (patriarchally encoded) female body is consumable.

And not just Sookie's body.

Other women are consumable commodities, too.

Now, of course, I know men are fed on as well, I do watch the show; but I think the sociocultural meaning of some of the examples I've pulled out here makes the consumption of females a little different.

Remember how Eric paid a "blood hooker" so that he could feed on her - and he seemed to prefer that she struggle and pretend that she didn't want it?

And when he consumed Hadley against her will as leverage to get her paramour the Queen to reveal  information about Sookie, he rated the other Stackhouse girl's taste like he was reviewing a take-out joint for the local paper: "Mmm-mmm. I 'd give her three stars." (S3E7 Hitting the Ground).

Speaking of take-out joints, perhaps you'll recall how Russell and Lorena deliberated before commanding Bill to procure a woman from a strip club for their dining pleasure, just like they were ordering off a Chinese food menu:

Russell: In the mood for anything in particular?
Lorena: Someone smoky. Not too fatty.
Russell: See, I was thinking... ethnic.
Lorena: Mm.
(S3E4 9 Crimes)

Once procured, they feasted on this "disposable sex worker" with relish - her blood running out of their limo and onto the ground like a perverse chocolate fountain.

Russell's appetite for "something ethnic" calls to mind the language of "gastronomic sexuality" Raquel Z. Rivera (2003, p. 129) describes as being part of the hip-hop lexicon when it comes to the "sweet, thick, pretty, round and various shades of brown...blackberry molasses to butta pecan" women that populate many rap music videos.

If you remember dancing to Big Pun's hit "Still Not A Player" in the clubs back in the late '90's like I do, you know that blackberry molasses to butta pecan reference above alludes to this song. The line's actually, "I love from butta pecan to blackberry molass' I don't discriminate, I regulate every shade of that ass".

Back in S4E1 the drunkard hanging around the back alley near the cagefighting ring tossed similar language at Tara and Naomi, labeling them for his consuming gaze as: "...some of that chocolate banana swirl...every woman's got a price".

In her essay, "Butta Pecan Mamis: Tropicalized Mamis - 'Chocolate Caliente'" Rivera points out that while the video's camerawork alternating between groups of lighter and comparatively darker-skinned women in order to punctuate the singsong chorus, "Boriqua, Morena" is meant to distinguish between these two groups of women, they come together by virtue of Pun's sexual desire.

According to Rivera, these women are eroticized and exoticized, as Pun lays claim to both Puerto Rican and African American "ghetto brunettes". Boriquas and morenas, "brown" women and "black" women may be distinct, but as he and other artists including Jay Z ("Who You Witt II") and Son Doobie ("XXX Funk") construct them, they are part of a commercialized landscape of desire. Sistas and mamis are "their" women to be consumed.  

Here we have the beginnings of the transcultural reality of the "I-want-them-all" mentality, where women are not real subjects, complex and distinct, but interchangeable; "infinitely substitutable beings" (p. 145).

Tim Ward illustrates this concept clearly. In his book Savage Breast: One Man's Search for the Goddess (2005, p. 28) he recalls a translation of old Tibetan meditations that contained his ultimate sexual fantasy:

The sutra instructed the reader to visualize a Bodhisattva sitting in meditation while he projects 200 emanations of himself, each one appearing to a dakini, a powerful and beautiful female spirit. Immediately the 200 dakinis become sexually magnetized to his 200 emanations, and they couple in passionate embrace. To each feminine spirit, the Bodhisattva appears as if he is the only one, and each of them gives herself completely to him. But the true Bodhisattva, he sits alone in his meditation in perfect detached repose. I realized that this was my fantasy, to have every beautiful woman magnetized to me so I could enjoy them all, while giving myself emotionally to none of them. That's what I wanted with the women I had affairs with. Not that I ever once said that I loved them, ever once tried to fool them. Is that evil? I don't know. I don't think so. Is it shitty? Well, I imagine the dakinis would be pretty pissed off at the Bodhisattva is they knew... 

He wanted them all - all for his consumption.

In the sphere of the commercial consumption of female sexuality, women are "indispensible as members of the collective at the core of male pleasure - females, honeys, hotties, bitches, hoes, freaks, chickenheads, pigeons, chicks - they are branded with the 'mark of the plural' that makes them expendable and easily substitutable as individuals" (Rivera, 2003, p. 147).   

Sookie deflects Eric's characterization of her as being consumable; his leering gaze as he utters the phrase, "Well, aren't you sweet" suggesting that she is, in fact, as Rivera (2003, p. 127) writes of the six chocolate-drenched young women [of color - chocolate caliente] swirling in a cup of hot cocoa on the cover of the 1998 rap album The Rude Awakening "sexily awaiting ingestion". Sookie replies, "Not really." (S1E4 Escape from Dragon House)

So she's seen as consumable alright, even though she's like not to be - but perhaps not so interchangable. There's something different about her that sets her apart, that makes her extra-special-tasty. References to Sookie's "sweetness" are constant; no doubt, they are a marker of her "alignment with the good" which makes her not unlike Dracula's Mina Harker. In the words of the character Abraham Van Helsing, the fictional Mina is:

...one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a Heaven where we can enter, and that its light [emphasis mine, sound familiar?] can be here on earth...so true, so sweet, so noble...(p. 226)

According to Susan Parlour (2009), the text of Dracula is littered with references to Mina's sweetness, who, though she transgressed the role of women in Victorian society to a certain degree, was readmitted to the patriarchal machine due, largely in part, to her sexual reticence and acceptance of the sexual mores and etiquette of the times.

Likewise, might Sookie be seen as an avatar of virtuous and virginal [white] womanhood? After all, according to prevailing stereotypes at least, women of color are more primal and sexual but in the world of True Blood the taste of virgin blood is the best of all, second only to baby's blood. When she was a virgin, Sookie's blood was covetted, to be sure...but like butta pecanness, her fairy blood's got an enticing flavor all its own that makes her a highly sought after commodity.       

She does it again, thowing off amnesia Eric's hungry advances in Season 4's 3rd episode, yelling at him, "I'm not your fucking dinner!". Later in the episode, she reminds Eric of how he tasted her against her will; that he basically "fang raped" her. He seemed genuinely taken aback and sorry.

Must we be seen as essentially edible? And if we are, does this essentialism isolate us within our conmumable bodies from other facets of ourselves, i.e. the "masculine" brain and the "feminine" body?

Atwood's character Joan rejects the multi-breasted Diana of Ephesus as a symbol of "the essence of femininity itself"(2003, p. 80).

It is, rather, a "paradigm of the patriarchally controlled female body"  (2003, p. 80):

She had a serene face, perched on top of a body shaped like a mound of grapes. She was draped in breasts from neck to ankle, as though inflicted with a case of yaws: little breasts at top and bottom, big ones around the middle. The nipples were equipped with sprouts, but several of the breasts were out of order.

I stood licking my ice-cream cone, watching the goddess coldly. Once I would have seen her as an image of myself, but not any more. My ability to give was limited, I was not inexhaustible. I was not serene, not really. I wanted things, things for myself. 

Sanchez-Grant writes that Joan's assertion is a protest against a society that situates her as a reproductive machine, suggesting as the food imagery and the character's unromantic terms imply - to be endlessly giving, to nourish and sustain others is "simply to be edible" (2003, p. 80).

My conclusion is that woman can be drained, she is not just a font of nourishment for [male] others.

Here's some other references to the edible & the consumable in You Smell Like Dinner:

• When Sookie walked in on Jessica feeding on a man other than Hoyt in the ladies room at Fangtasia, the baby vamp spat, "I can eat who I want"
• Bill's response to Nan Flanagan when in London, 1982, she asks him why he doesn't kill his prey: "They might be dinner but they don't deserve to die"
• The conversation within Sam's new shifter entourage about the ethics of factory egg farming and the bourgeois attitudes of some animal rights activists

What do these themes mean to you? We'd love to hear your thoughts. Please share them in the comments space below.

~ Rachel

References

Parlour, S. (2009). Vixens and Virgins in the 19th century Anglo-Irish Novel: Representations of the feminine in Bram Stoker's Dracula. Journal of Dracula Studies, # 11.


Rivera, R. Z. (2003). New York Ricans from the Hip Hop Zone. New York: Palgrave.


Sanchez-Grant, S. (2008). The Female Body in Margaret Atwood's The Edible Woman and Lady Oracle. Journal of International Women's Studies, Vol. 9, #2.


Ward, T. (2006). Savage Breast: One Man’s Search for the Goddess. New York, NY: O Books

Surrender

Oh, the city's alight with lovers and lies
And bright blue eyes.
Oh, the city is bright, it's brighter than day tonight.
(Surrender, surrender)
(Surrender, surrender)

Sadie said she couldn't work out what it was all about
And so she let go.
Now Sadie's on the street and the people she meets you know.

She tried to be a good girl and a good wife
Raise a good family
Lead a good life
It's not good enough
She got herself up on the 48th floor
Gotta find out
Find out what she's living for.

Oh, the city's afire
A passionate flame that knows me by name.
Oh, the city's desire to take me for more and more.
It's in the street gettin' under my feet
It's in the air, it's everywhere I look for you.
It's in the things that I  do and say
and if i wanna live I gotta die to myself someday                             

                                                                 ~ Surrender lyrics - U2

     I had every intention of re-watching this past episode of True Blood (If You Love Me, Why Am I Dying?) and taking plenty of notes in order to write this post... that didn't really happen. I took notes, just not plenty of notes! Instead I found myself glued to the screen, desperately trying to take it all in again. I looked down at what I wrote, a mere line or two and for a split second, I got a little worried. Had I not watched closely enough? Did I not pay attention? I turned to Rachel, sitting beside me and shrugged, then we began to discuss and it was clear we both made very similar observations. We noted the recurring themes: dishonesty, temptation, religion, addiction, recovery; I turned to Rae and suddenly a light went on in my head! "Write down 'Surrender' for me", I asked. When she told me she already had I said again "Surrender", you know as in U2?!" and held up the hard cover book U2 by U2 I was leaning on to further make my point.

     Sur-ren-der- verb (used with object)
     1. To yield (something) to the possession or power of another; deliver up possession of on demand or under duress 
     2. To give (oneself) up, as to the police
     3. To give (oneself) up to some influence, course, emotion etc.


     During the course of this episode we bore witness to no less than 10 different moments of surrender (to quote U2 again). These moments ranging from the traditional definition of the word, to more esoteric characterizations, can be seen throughout almost every plot and sub-plot in the episode.

     Alan Ball has a way of brilliantly stringing together seemingly unconnected story lines. You could say his style is the literary equivalent to pointillism; you need to take a step back at times to see the whole picture. What I saw when I stepped back ran the gamut from emotional, to sexual, to religious surrender; every character giving up or giving in to some force seen or unseen.

     From the very start we learn just how much Eric has been forced to surrender, be it his memory, his identity or his clothes! Where did those clothes go anyway? We watch as he stands there, dazed and disoriented in front of Sookie, desperately trying to remember some piece of who he used to be. In turn we see Sookie, re-inviting Eric into her house. Giving up her space, her sanctuary, surrendering if you will, to a man who only days before informed her that he had purchased said house out from under her...rendering her powerless to his advances.

     Although Jessica's  moment of surrender occurred in the prior episode, she is now left to deal with the aftermath.  Weighed down by the guilt of acquiescing to temptation, she is advised to "vamp up" and come clean to Hoyt. What we tend to forget, given the fact that Jessica is a vampire, is that she is a seventeen year old vampire and still quite naive when it comes to love, lust and life in general. Unable to deal with the pain she has caused Hoyt she opts to confess and then Glamour her way out of what would undoubtedly be a messy fight. This proves to be our next flirtation with surrender as Hoyt, amid protest, succumbs to Jessica's influence thus putting an end their troubles....for now!

     Andy, Andy, Andy oh, excuse me Sheriff Bellefleur (my apologies)! Over the years we have seen Andy rise and fall and rise again from temptation. He managed to curb his addiction to alcohol only to trade it in for a nasty "V" habit. Many recovery programs advocate giving yourself over to a "higher power". We can only assume Andy is aware of this process through his previous addiction and recovery. We get a hint of Andy using his instincts through reaching out to a "sponsor" by calling Jason, and when that didn't work he started reciting the serenity prayer, a prayer often used at support meetings. When his cravings didn't subside he gave in....surrendering to his addiction, starting the cycle over again. While on the topic of addiction and recovery let's not forget to mention an almost unrecognizable Debbie. When we last saw her she was strung out and hung up on revenge, now she claims "I got the program and I got Jesus on my side". Ready to make amends or not she seems to have given her life over to that "higher power" as well.

     Our next moment of surrender comes in a very literal sense of the word. Fearing for his life and the lives of his loved one's Lafayette was looking to surrender himself to Eric, to throw his "black ass at his mercy and beg his forgiveness". LaLa was looking to wave the white flag, offer an olive branch to Eric in order to "hopefully keep us all from getting killed". This has proven to be  a very static character trait for Lafayette, he has done and will do whatever it takes to survive even if that means giving [himself] up.

     Straddling the lines between physical, emotional, and religious surrender we have Marnie. One of my favorite additions to the show! Masterfully played by Fiona Shaw, Marnie personifies the outcast- timid and misunderstood yet dangerously powerful, to the point of frightening. She offers all that she is to some unseen spirit. "Invade me, fill me up" she begs. She is desperate, longing for some connection "I will be your instrument on this plane to utilize as you see fit, I trust in you completely". This kind of statement requires nothing less than blind faith...absolute sacrifice. She gets so swept up in the fervor she exhibits little to no regard for her own safety, continuously slashing her wrists as an offering. "Make me your servant, I beg you PLEASE COME!"

     We have been told that Jason is the character that "has the hardest time staying alive" this season. It is for this reason I chose to write about him last. Tied to a bed, tortured, drugged and raped. His is by far the most shocking and disturbing of all our moments of surrender. Jason has been made to give up his very humanity. Forced to become Crystal and Felton's pawn, he finds himself on the verge of being reborn as the "ghost daddy" of their inbred village of the damned. The plot sickens as Jason awakens to see Crystal on top of him, writhing and riding him in ecstasy, and he too weak and restrained to do anything about it can only moan in horror at what is happening. This adds yet another layer to this theme as Jason is being forced to surrender his seed, to impregnate Crystal (and I suspect every other girl in Hot Shot) in order to carry on their race.

     Where does all of this lead? What lies ahead for these characters? Will they be able to carry on, get back up or rise above? Will they ever be able to recapture all that has been lost or taken from them? For these and so many more questions I fear I have no answers, I can only watch and wait with bated breath to see what fate will hand them. I hope you will watch along with me! ~ Rebecca

"She's Not There"

There's so much I could talk about when it comes to the premiere episode of True Blood Season 4, "She's Not There". What to tackle first? There's Sookie's brief Alice in Wonderland-esque hiatus in Faerie with granddaddy Earl - who himself was gone for 20 years - and the pulse-pounding escape sequence that follows. Or, maybe the "who would you rather trust, a vampire or a politician" propaganda-off between Eric and Bill. And then, of course, there's the introduction of several new supes and magical personages for us to contend with.

But most of these have already been addressed elsewhere on the web, and with so many worthy and intriguing points of departure for contemplating the new season I think I'll veer off in a different direction altogether, thank you very much!

I want to explore a feeling.

The sucking, vacant, wanting feeling several scenes of "She's Not There" inspired in me - and with such a title, is it any wonder?

Sookie's not the only one who wasn't, or isn't, there.

What happens when one goes away - and stays away - departs the premises, or withdraws emotionally? How do those left behind deal?

Let's plumb this pattern of "not being there" a little deeper, shall we?

Arlene's not there, not really, for her son Mikey. She fears him; what's in him, what he is, how he reminds her of René. The guilt is killing her, and she professes to love Mikey, but she doesn't fully, she can't. How will her emotional distancing impact her baby boy, her new marriage with Terry, her sense of self? Will this darkness leach into her parenting of Coby and Lisa? As Terry (over?)identifies with Mikey, claiming him as his true son, will he begin to drift from Arlene? Will they become isolated in their troubles?

When someone withdraws from, or isn't there - fully present - in a relationship or community, tension and resentment are inevitable, whether the missing party returns or lingers, partly detached, not truly invested.

Conflict breaks out.

Images of sparring or downright pummelling were everywhere in "She's Not There"...

...from Tara (or Toni?!?) the cage fighter, pounding on the woman who is ostensibly her lover:

...to the colliding behemoths both Jessica and Sookie paused on while flipping the TV channels (did you notice that?!?):

And speaking of Jessica flipping through the TV stations, I gotta tell ya, the scene that unfolded between she and Hoyt, with her sitting on the couch - remote and Tru Blood in hand - as he's coming in the door from work really, really got to me. Maybe it's because I'm in a long term, committed, co-habitating relationship that I can feel their pain. Maybe it's because the person I'm in that relationship with - the man I married - is the one and only romantic partner I've had since I was 17, the age at which Jessica was turned and that she will remain for all time. So perhaps I feel a certain sense of kinship with her.

But, man - o -man, did that scene throw me for a loop. As the scene played out, I could hardly believe my eyes and ears. Who was that angry, resentful Hoyt, and where did he come from? How could their happy relationship devolve, dissolve this way? How could they verbally tear at each other so?

Some deeper, more allegorical questions took shape in my mind later.

Alan Ball has repeatedly stated that True Blood delves into the "terrors of intimacy"; here, I see a foray into the "terrors of domesticity" - and what can happen when the shine on a brand-spanking-new relationship dulls with time and apathy.

Hoyt: "You remember I eat, right? Like, food? Be nice to have some in the house".
Jessica: "You remember I don't eat, right?" (referring to human food) "It's all dead, permanently, forever, dead". 

What happens when what feeds one partner doesn't feed - or even revolts - the other? When one's hunger is not satiated in the relationship? Where can common ground be found? If one or both of them is looking for something outside of the relationship, are either of them really there?

On their post-fight date night at Fangtasia, Hoyt apologizes to Jessica for losing his temper with her; she says she's sorry too but she can't help staring at another man upon whom she wishes to feed from across the room. The smell of the "O neg with a twist of B pos" cocktail Hoyt buys for her at the bar turns her stomach. We know Tru Blood isn't enough for her; she can subsist on it - barely - but she's not living, not really.

And Pam, in the very special way that only Pam can - points this out to Jessica, remarking that if she's asking Hoyt to bring her to Fangtasia, their relationship probably isn't enough for her. Pam more than alludes to the idea that for Jessica, living with Hoyt is not normal or natural; it's not enough. Is she right? Do Jessica and Hoyt have irreconcilable differences?

Believe me, I totally understand the concept of the honeymoon being over, and that puppy-love doesn't last. But there was just something so sharp and jabbing about Hoyt and Jessica's ways of being towards one another that was totally jarring for me.

I can't help but hear the words to "Losing a Whole Year" by one of my favorite bands, Third Eye Blind, when I think about this scene. Not only is the title appropriate for this episode, but the lyrics are so choked with bitterness that I feel the song captures its emotional tenor, unfortunately, all too well.

I remember you and me used to spend the whole goddamned day in bed
lying in your room we'd lay like dogs
and the phone would ring like a joke that's left unsaid...

...and now I realized that you never heard
one goddamned word I ever said.
It always seemed the juice used to flow
in the car, in the kitchen you were good to go...

...now we're stuck with the tube
a sink full of dishes and some aqualube.

And if it's not the defense then you're on the attack...



And what about that freaky baby doll? It wasn't shown in "She's Not There" but it came back into play in a subsequent episode...could it represent that gangrenous appendage that infects, insidiously rots a relationship away from the inside out?

You know, the meddlesome in-laws...

Jessica: "I'm cooking for ya. Just like your mama."
Hoyt: "Look, don't bring her into this. That woman's dead to me".
Jessica: "Yeah, and if her aim were any better, I'd be a pile of goo and she'd be making your eggs".

...or money, or sex, or jobs...or just different expectations of what makes for a fulfilling and happy life. Can that diseased element of a relationship - the thing we find ourselves fighting about most - be excised, or at least worked around, or through?

The fact that this disturbing scene ended with both Hoyt and Jessica laughing - being able to find a common ground of humor and caring in spite of their conflict - gave me hope that there is still something of their original connection to build upon and salvage what they've got together. I do believe they love each other, but sometimes love isn't enough.

And what about when the life you've got isn't enough; when it's left you feeling vulnerable, exposed, traumatized?

Tara has responded by leaving it behind. All of it. Her friends. Her family. Her job. Her town. Her look. Her name.

She has taken on a new identity, a new life. But it seems to me that she's not really there for it. She's got a girlfriend, Naomi, who seems to truly care for her, but doesn't know her - anything at all about her, who she really is. I get it that we are all in constant states of flux, that there is no core, base, true self - that our entire lives are journeys of discovery. And not in the sense of a linear trajectory bringing us through a progression of trials and tribulations until we find ourselves; our real, true, selves. We are constantly in the process of becoming, until the day we die.

It was my favorite poet, afterall - the sage Walt Whitman, who wrote in his masterwork Leaves of Grass:

Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.

We may very well all contain multitudes - but which of her multitudes is Tara revealing to Naomi, what of herself is she sharing? Naomi believes her to be Toni, from Atlanta. And while it's possible that Tara may be bisexual or lesbian - that the Tara we have known throughout True Blood's run thus far, is a front, a facade - honestly, there has never been any hint that Tara might be gay. Is her sexual relationship with Naomi just another part of her escape? How can Tara be present in their relationship, or to herself, for that matter, if the self she shows to Naomi is a fabrication woven as a protecting wrapping against her past?

Now, we know that Tara has been fighting an internal battle for quite some time...

...but now, with all she has done to sever her new self from the old, might she become lost to herself - as amnesia Eric does in subsequent episodes?

Coming back to Bon Temps and rekindling her relationships with Lafayette, Sookie and the rest may be good for her. And what of Naomi's place in her life? We'll see.

Right now, that question's sort of making me think of more "Losing A Whole Year" lyrics:

I kind of get the feeling like I'm being used...

...When you were yourself it was tasting sweet
soured into a routine deceit
well this drama is a bore...

...and I don't wanna play no more.

Sam doesn't want to play anymore, either. With guns, at least. In this episode, he spills to his shifter "anger management" group:

I knew it was wrong, even before I pulled the trigger. It was like some other person fired that gun and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

Sam feels like he wasn't there - wasn't in his body. Sam's description of this kind of "out of body experience" sounds an awful lot like dissociation - a disruption of normal psychological functioning in response to stress or trauma - that is often triggered unconsciously as a means for the self to, in essence, protect itself. To or retreat from or insulate the self against something too threatening to face. In Seasons 2 & 3 we saw that Sam does indeed have things in his past that he's running away from, actions he deeply regrets. Now he can add shooting Tommy, his own brother, to that list. Can he get back to himself in Season 4?

As the episode wound down, we found ourselves at Hot Shot with Jason, observing his friendly and good natured rapport with the youth of the town as he doled out foodstuffs from the back of his truck. He has stepped into and more than filled the vacuum left by Crystal, who is also among the missing - she's not there. Jason feels her loss. He's tired. He comments to the kids, "We really need to get your Aunt Crystal back here ASAP. Y'all could use a momma and I could use a break". When Becky asked had he spoken to Crystal, he replied, "not yet, but I can think of one or two things I'd like to tell her when I do find her". His resentment comes through. It doesn't feel good to be abandoned - to be left holding the bag. To be on the hook for other people's responsibilities.

And by the end of the show, we knew that others might soon be feeling the way that Jason felt about Crystal having taken off, disappearing, about him - since people would eventually notice that he was missing, not there, but wouldn't know why - that he was being held against his will.

I'll be interested to see how this theme carries through the rest of Season 4.

Any thoughts? Please share them in the comments space below. Thanks!

~ Rachel